


Draco Hearts Spice Girls and Harry Potter

by Phoenix_Waves



Series: I Now Pronounce You: Blonded for Life [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Shit Ton of Dramatic Slytherins in General, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Auror Trainee Draco Malfoy, Auror Trainee Harry Potter, Auror Training, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bottom Harry Potter, Case Fic, Comfort/Angst, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, Dramatic Draco Malfoy, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Gay Panic, Heavily Intoxicated Consent Is Not Consent, M/M, Muggle Culture, Mystery, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Prequel, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Rimming, Slow Burn, Top Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_Waves/pseuds/Phoenix_Waves
Summary: Ron and Hermione could have predicted it and Pansy and Blaise aren't surprised. All it took was just ONE day in the field together for Harry to open Draco's eyes to a world beyond arranged marriages and heirs and for Draco to help Harry realize that he is most definitely bent.Draco's Auror pursuits hang in the balance as he tries to figure out his own path to redemption, family values are a pain in the arse, and all of it has Harry's nerves on edge.An Auror training fic and Part 1 of the "I Now Pronounce You: Blonded for Life" Series
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass & Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: I Now Pronounce You: Blonded for Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636441
Comments: 76
Kudos: 267





	1. Pinky Swear

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place 3 years after the war in summer, 2001. The first half is in Draco's POV and then switches to Harry's about halfway in. 
> 
> Part 1 is complete and I'll upload new chapters twice a week.
> 
> If you'd like updates for when Part 2: "Chaos Theory: Can Butterflies Have Blonde Hair?" is actually posted, be sure to subscribe to the series!
> 
> **Possible Trigger Warning**  
> There is a scene in chapter 7 that could be triggering for those with experiences where someone didn't get/understand/care that impaired consent is not consent.

Draco Malfoy watched the reds and orange of the morning sun dance across his eyelids as he contemplated his life choices. His head was pounding, his mouth taste of cheap whiskey and felt like cotton, his whole body ached, and why in the _fuck_ were the birds chirping so loudly? He pulled the covers tighter around his naked torso and willed himself to fall back asleep.

_"He's spiraling, Pansy."_

_"I know, Blaise. The whole thing was already a mess from the start and this job... I don't know why the stupid git just wont call it quits already and go and work with you."_

_"Ha! Like you don't know why. I'll give you one hint: He has four eyes, two of which are green."_

If Draco could open his eyes then he would roll them at the barely hushed voices of his best friends who were clearly plotting outside his bedroom door. As if Potter were a reason to stay. If anything, he were a reason to run screaming in the opposite direction! And this was all his fault to begin with!

_"I'm worried about him... Who was that bloke he came home with?"_

His eyes flew open and his head spun to the side -- an action he immediately bemoaned when his stomach lurched and the room spun, too. His bed was thankfully empty but broken memories from last night came flooding back to him: dancing wildly and singing off-key to some delightful muggle group called the Spicey Girls (or something of that nature), drunkenly crying into a pint of gross beer while two girls dressed in neon fits with tiger stripes cooed over him like a sad kitten, letting some nameless bloke with messy black hair and the wrong colored eyes bend him over against the wall outside a bathroom stall... Sweet Salazar! Had he brought that bloke home?! Wasn't he a muggle?! Holy shite, how did he get them all the way here from Soho?! Thoughts of being locked up for breaking the international statue of secrecy ran through his mind!

The bubbling panic was just starting to mingle unsettlingly with his hangover when more bits of the picture floated into place.

_Shite_.

He looked over at the brown robes emblazoned with the ministry's emblem (the letter M with a shining wand in the center) and the the word _Trainee_ stitched underneath. They awaited him mockingly, thrown haphazardly over a chair. He closed his eyes again and took a deep, steadying breath. He didn't know if he had any dignity left still to walk away with but he made up his mind, nonetheless:

"Fuck it. I quit."

* * *

**1 Day Earlier**

The darkness pressed in around Draco, encasing him from every angle, heavy and suffocating. He stilled, his ears straining carefully, at first hearing only the sound of his own quickened pulse thrumming against his eardrums and his ragged breath in the chilled air around him. He was rewarded for his patience, however, with a slight rustle in the distance. Robes against leaves? The smell of damp earth and pine cones and the feel of soil and twigs beneath his feet told him that he was in a forest. That meant that any shot he took could be impeded by trunks and branches.

A flash of light briefly illuminated a hooded figure among the trees. Moments later, the snap of a twig told him that the figure was coming toward him rather than fleeing. He braced himself and crouched in wait.

_"Come on... Come on..."_ he breathed.

When the next flash of light flared, he was ready. His eyes quickly sought out the assailant and, instead of firing, he focused on apparating right behind him: a risky, dangerous, down right _idiotic_ move in pitch darkness and with no clear landing! -- That is unless, of course, you had the innate grace of Draco Malfoy. He smirked when he came out of the apparition, seamlessly, right as the next crack of light struck, illuminating the surprised and frightened face of his target, mere feet away from his.

_"INCARCEROUS!"_

The simulation ended and the lights flickered on to reveal the disappointed faces of his spectating peers in the viewing gallery. He smiled smugly. They wore that look every time he didn't fail and Draco refused to give them the satisfaction. He tried to contain his excitement as he turned towards the giant magical timer that now shone green to indicate that he'd beaten his personal best: 3 minutes and 56 seconds flat on a simulation where the average time of completion was nearly 15! 

"Bloody hell, Malfoy! Are you insane or do you have a death wish?!" Leave it to Weasley to forget to hate him when he was impressed by something. Draco smirked and decided to take what he could get.

"Aww!" He placed a mocking hand over his heart. "Were you actually concerned about me, Weasley? I'm touched!"

"Course not, I'm just glad we're not the ones left picking splinched bits and pieces of you out of fake tree tops!" he called down and shook his head ruefully.

Draco's eyes involuntarily drifted to Weasley's right and the tanned man with the green eyes and scruffy beard who now wore his black hair long and pulled back into a messy bun. He gasped slightly when he realized that Potter was watching him intently, muscled arms straining against his tight muggle shirt as he leaned over the railing. Draco was sure he was deluding himself by imagining that the look on the man's face might've actually been one of admiration or respect and, for some inexplicable reason, the thought made his ears heat up, embarrassingly. He was almost grateful when the moment was interrupted by a rumbling voice. _Almost_.

"Nice work, Malfoy, but you're still not as fast as Potter," Head Auror Robards said smugly as his quill scribbled something into his floating, dragon-hide bound notebook.

Draco looked back up at Potter who nodded towards the clock and then smirked wryly at Draco in challenge. He effortfully tempered his temper and turned his attention back to the gruff, stoutly, middle-aged man with the large salt and pepper mustache.

"So what? Neither has anyone else! It's not my fault that the stupid git had to go and break the all-time record!"

"No, but _he'_ s not the one who has something to prove."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Draco fought to keep the emotions at war with each other from contorting his face. It was the first day of their 3rd and final year of training and he'd consistently been top 2 in their class in years previous -- by a landslide, even -- but, would it ever be enough? He already worked harder than everyone else, faster than everyone else -- everyone, it seemed, except Saint Bloody Potter!

"Look Malfoy, I'm going to be straight with you - you're talented. No one can dispute that. But your attitude isn't great and no one trusts you in a position of power or public service -- OK, BRING IT IN!!!" he called out to the rest of the crowd, making it abundantly clear that he considered that the end of their conversation.

" _Excuse me_?" he hissed as his training mates closed in around them. "Have I not passed every one of those blasted character and aptitude tests just like everyone else?! Have I not chosen a path that, by its very nature, implies that I want to do some good in this godforsaken world for once?! Yes, let me bloody put my life on the line every day to try and keep the world safe because I'm an evil bastard!"

Robards merely shook his head, "I call it like I see it, Malfoy. I've said it before and I'll say it again: you are fighting a constant and losing battle. I personally don't know why you'd put yourself through it to begin with but that's just the reality of it. Now fall in line!"

Draco bit back the litany of swear words that were on his tongue. He turned on his heels only to bump headlong into Harry Potter whose curiously, sad eyes met his. He reached out a steadying hand to catch Draco before he could fall. Once he'd caught his bearings, the brooding blonde simply huffed and marched off to the other side of the room.

Robards spoke out: "Ok, thus far, we've been working on increasingly strenuous skills and strategies and, until this point, the simulations have been the main way to test what you've learnt. Well, enough of that! Third year is _not_ for the faint of heart and, quite frankly, if it weren't for how badly our force was dwindled by the war or this soft new minister's insistence on relaxing some of our standards of training, a _lot_ of you wouldn't be here." He looked pointedly at Draco whose fingers curled instinctively tighter around his wand. "This year is when we see who's really meant to be here. We will have cuts at several points throughout the year, the first being at the end of the next test which shall begin this afternoon."

A wave of frenzied muttering rippled through the crowd of fretful comrades.

"Settle down! Settle down! This afternoon's test will consist of an actual field assignment." There were gasps and Draco perked up. This is what he'd been waiting for! A time to shine in the real world!

"About time!" said Stevens, an eager and sharp-witted brunette girl. They had all been wondering when they'd actually get to go out into the field. It had historically happened in the first year but, after too many casualties, they had finally decided to save field tasks for the final stage of training.

"You will be partnered with one other trainee and the team who accomplishes their tasks in the fastest amount of time will be exempt from this first round of cuts. Choose carefully! If you have any brains then it will be someone you trust and who's body language you can read."

There was an excited, frantic energy in the room but Draco let his eyes shut momentarily in defeat. He'd pointedly isolated himself from the start. He knew that he'd joined as the pariah and so he made sure to keep to himself, avoiding the group lunches and team nights out. It probably didn't help that he was still a down right bitch to most of them. He probably should've played nice but his Slytherin instincts told him to defend himself and he couldn't help it if his best defenses were... moderately offensive. Boy had this come back to bite him in the arse. He looked around the room where all the best candidates who might leave him with even a slim chance of avoiding being picked off by Robards' vengeful cuts were already eyeing the friend they were considering for their partner. Potter was stood next to the red-headed buffoon, of course.

Robards continued: "Potter! Since you are ahead, you'll get first choice at a partner."

Draco didn't wait to hear his pick. He turned and headed back to the locker room, defeated.

Anger flooded through him as he stopped at the line of sinks. He grasped hard at one of the the porcelain basins, his knuckles turning white as he glared back at the pathetic reflection in the mirror.

"AARGHHH!" he cried out in anguish, his fist connecting hard and quick with the cool, glassy face of the blonde bastard staring back it him.

The shattered mirror was satisfying for all of about 4 seconds before he looked down at his hand, bloodied, littered with shards of glass and already turning purple because he'd surely just broken something. And, as if the excruciating pain hadn't realized it was supposed to come until after he'd seen it:

"Ow! Ow! Ow! OW!" he whimpered as he nursed his hand. For someone who was averse to pain and blood, he really needed to stop doing that, he thought.

"Merlin, Malfoy!"

Oh great.

"Shove off, Potter!" he managed to get out through clinched teeth. He was the _last_ person he wanted to see right now.

But, of course, Potter, with his stupid hero complex, did _not_ shove off. Instead, he rushed forward with worried brow and tried to reach for his throbbing hand.

" _I'm fine, Potter_!" he said, fighting back tears.

Potter rolled his eyes. "Malfoy, you just completely pulverized you wand hand..."

Ok. He had to admit he was feeling stupider by the second. He made a conscious note that if he were going to be an idiot in the future, then he at least needed to use the other hand so that he could heal himself.

He sighed loudly in resignation.

"I hate you, Potter," he frowned. He would've put more heat behind it but for that bloody pain...

Potter's responding smile was disarming as he reached out for Draco's hand again. "You need me to say it back?"

Draco rolled his eyes but gingerly placed his hand in Potter's, all the same. Potter examined the damage with a soft expression that Draco rarely saw. Hogwarts may have been long over but training had only amplified their competition in a different way. They were never quite as vile to each other anymore (he being a proper wizard who respected life-debts and Potter the annoying goody-two-shoes that he was) but, still, challenge always hung heavy in the air between them that was only fueled by the opposite and extreme expectations people had of them. As such, he was used to snarky, arrogant bastard Potter or smug, super Auror Potter. Now, the green-eyed man was being oddly gentle and it was... slightly unnerving...

"Can you fix it?" he finally asked.

"Well, you've definitely fractured some knuckles and my bone mending is shite..." Draco winced as he turned his hand. "But the cuts seem shallow and I've healed enough cuts and skinned knees for my godson that I should be able to stop the bleeding and splint it easy enough until you can make a trip to St. Mungos."

Draco nodded. Potter directed him to sit on the nearest bench and then sat facing him. He cradled his hand gently with one of his own large, rough hands and Draco held his breath as he began to delicately pull out the shards of glass, one at a time.

"So... Do you want to talk about this?" He nodded towards the mangled hand.

Draco merely rolled his eyes again. This whole situation was already shameful enough without him having to explain it to the bloody savior. Potter chuckled softly but took the cue.

They sat like that in silence for long moments as the little pile of glass accumulated on the bench as it was removed. When Potter finally spoke again, it was with a gentleness that matched his efforts.

"You can't let him get to you, Malfoy," he said without taking his eyes off of the task at hand. Draco had been briefly distracted, mesmerized even, when he realized that Potter had begun carefully, yet, wandlessly lifting out some of the more embedded shards before the words finally registered.

"Beg your pardon?" he asked, softly, not quite trusting his ears.

"Malfoy, you're fast, brilliant and ridiculously clever." He pulled out his wand and made quick work of healing his skin.

Draco gasped softly, stunned by his words. "Potter, I --"

Green eyes finally met his and held his gaze. "You are going to be one of the best Aurors to ever do this, if only you don't let him make you fall apart."

Draco felt lightheaded as he stared back into sincere, warm green eyes. It wasn't until Potter finally looked away and began methodically casting the bandaging charm to make a makeshift splint that he realized that, at some point, he had started holding his breath again.

"And _that_ is why I chose you as my partner," he said matter-of-factly as he let go of his hand abruptly. "All done!"

Draco gaped back at him, mouth opening and closing like a bizarre fish.

"You _what_?!" Potter just smiled back at him smugly. "But what about Weasley?"

Potter shrugged. "Ron works well with Stevens. Robards said pick someone who reads you well and..." His ears went red. "Well, we've had plenty of practice learning how to read each other what with playing against each other as seekers and, you know..."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "He also said to pick someone you trust..."

Potter shrugged again. "Well we've both already saved each other's life at least once."

Draco's wheels were turning. This didn't make any sense... But then he moved his arm and the resulting pain that shot through his hand reminded him that it didn't very much matter now, anyways.

He sighed. "Potter, that's very kind of you but I can't." He lifted his bandaged hand.

"It's ok, I don't need your hand I only need your brain!"

Draco cocked his head and quirked a brow, unable to help the resulting smirk.

"Is that so?" His eyes were lit with amusement despite the fact that he was sure the innuendo probably went over Potter's pure little head.

Potter blushed. "I mean, I could do the wandwork!" Draco bit his lip and nodded. Potter's blush deepened but he continued: "You're cleverer than I --"

"Obviously."

He rolled his eyes. "-- which means that you'll catch on to things quicker than I and we can finish faster."

"Potter, you want me to go out into the field, completely wandless? I'll practically be naked!"

"Well so long as you have your wand on you you'll still be able to apparate but, otherwise, I can protect you." Draco shot him a skeptical look. "The question just becomes do _you_ trust _me_?"

Draco searched earnest green eyes and contemplated the question, thoughts of Harry Potter swooping down and plucking him from a sea of fiendfyre and confidently marching into his Wizengamot trial playing like a reel in his mind. He sighed, knowing that the answer was yes, unequivocally. He could never tell _him_ that though.

"I promise I'll watch your back, Malfoy. Pinky swear." Draco screwed up his face in confusion as Potter lifted his pinky and then held it out for him. He rolled his eyes at Draco's resistance. "It's a muggle thing."

Draco hesitantly mirrored the action with his good hand and was surprised when Potter wrapped his pinky tightly around his.

"Ok, what's the task?" he asked, still a little bemused when Potter released him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter posts to come on Sundays and Wednesdays!


	2. Shady Dealings

Draco groaned inwardly as they stepped onto the cobbled path of Knockturn Alley. He would've been grateful to never again step foot in that sordid place but he was loathe to agree with Potter that Borgin and Burke's was the obvious first stop on the trail of the elusive magical-heirloom thief.

Covetous eyes followed them in their wake and Draco became acutely aware of the fact that he didn't have use of his wand hand. He could kick himself for agreeing to something so ludicrous! Apparently, Potter noticed him stiffen because he briefly placed a reassuring hand on his back. Was he normally this touchy-feely?

"I'm wandless, not a damsel in distress, Potter," Draco said snarkily as he pulled away from the touch, hoping to hide the shiver that ran through him.

Potter shrugged then raised his hands in concession.

"Speaking of being wandless, Potter, how _did_ you manage to learn wandless magic?" he asked, remembering Harry's earlier unique display of skill. "You never seemed particularly... _adept_ in school. How does one go from exceptionally mediocre to being able to do something that not even some of the greatest wizards known to man have mastered?"

"Wow, Malfoy, you sure know how to give a compliment." Harry rolled his eyes but smiled wryly. "I haven't mastered it, per se. I've always been able to do it in an accidental sort of way when emotions were high. Not being raised in the wizarding world, I just assumed that it all fell under typical accidental magic that little kids experienced. After the war..." He looked at Draco sideways as if contemplating if this were something he really wanted to share. "Let's just say I was not well after the war... I was a mess. And losing control in every possible sense of the word..."

Draco wasn't surprised. Three years had passed and _he_ still didn't know if his life would ever cease to feel like it was in shambles.

"Well, there came a point where I kept blowing things up and crushing them when I was angry. The thing was, it wasn't that I would be talking to someone who was pissing me off and random things would start exploding uncontrollably -- as I think is the case for most accidental magic. Instead, it was more like I would be talking to someone and think 'I really want to punch this prick in the face' and, instead of doing it, I would focus on a lamp or vase and concentrate on it until _it_ exploded. Finally, Hermione told me that she thought I was actually using wandless and that I should learn how to channel it. Practicing wandless magic was one of the things that finally gave me a sense of control again."

Draco nodded thoughtfully as they walked.

"Huh... Maybe I should give _that_ a try instead of --" He lifted his bandaged hand.

Potter barked out a laugh. "Yea, maybe."

They reached number 13B and entered the familiar old shop, the bell above the door signaling their arrival to Borgin who hastily shuffled towards them.

"Ah. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter. How may I help you today?"

To his annoyance, Potter ventured from his side and began to explore the shop on his own, leaving him alone with the greasy git.

"Borgin." Past experience had taught him that it was best to skip the formalities and get straight to the point. "We're investigating the disappearance of a string of antique magical heirlooms: Hector Fawley's pocket compass which was believed to be imbued with the homonculous charm, Josephina Flint's enchanted amulet, Doria Shafiq's golden quill, and Geraint Ollivander's original wood carving knife. Do any of those things mean anything to you?"

"Only that they would be very, very valuable to whomever should be so lucky as to possess them!" He smiled slyly and Draco couldn't help but notice the nervous wringing of his hands. He raised a brow in question.

"Any idea why anyone would be after those items, in particular?" he pressed.

"Other than their age and value, I see no connection -- " His eyes shiftily searched out Potter.

"And none of these items have come across your eye of late?" Draco raised a brow in question.

"No, I assure you -- _Mr. Potter_! May I assist you?" he shouted as Harry reached the back corner of the shop and bent at the middle to examine the contents of a shelf.

"Yes, you can tell me why you were about to lie to my partner," he said, wandlessly levitating a golden quill and walking back to join them at the front counter. Draco smirked. Partly because of the fast break in the case and partly because of the way _"My partner"_ had rolled off of Potter's tongue.

Borgin wrung his hands more frantically now. "My apologies, Mr. Potter, I did not remember such an item, you see? So many artifacts come across my threshold over the course of a day, you can imagine it might become hard to keep a track of them all." He smiled crookedly.

"Oh, I'm sure. _Revelio!_ " Blue light shot out of Potter's wand and a compass, an amulet, and a carving knife were illuminated in various partially hidden spots throughout the room.

Harry and Draco exchanged wry, triumphant looks, almost not daring to believe how easy that was!

"Now, now--" Borgin began to back up slowly with hands halfway up in surrender. "I mustn't be held accountable for whatever... _less than honorable_ means my customers take in acquiring the merchandise!"

Draco turned questioning eyes to Potter. They had recovered all of the missing items -- and in under an hours, no less! That would surely be enough to gain them Robards' favor and likely win the task! But... there was still the chance to catch the thief and wrap this all up with a bow. Harry nodded in response. The next moment, Borgin had gone quiet and was now stiff as a board after a well cast _Petrificus Totalus_.

"All yours," Potter smirked at him, all too happy to rely on the Slytherin's silver tongue.

Draco couldn't help the sly grin that spread across his face as he eyed his prey.

"Well, well, well, Borgin, my old friend. What unfortunate business... Now this is clearly enough evidence to send you to Azkaban for a rather... _unpleasant_ amount of time. Selling stolen goods, hindering an investigation, and who knows what other godawful and _illegal_ secrets we'll find if we look a little..." He shook his head gravely. "Now, I would like to avoid that, you see. You've been such a good friend to my family and this community that, perhaps, you would rather just help my partner and I out? Tell us who this thief is and I'm sure we could let you off with a warning."

" _Finite Incantatem."_

Borgin loosened his old bones and limbered his neck as the spell ended. "You two know how to play hardball," he grinned mischievously.

"Just tell us who the bloke was," said Potter irritably, wand still pointed at the man's chest.

"The ' _bloke'_ t'was a lady," he smiled.

Draco and Harry exchanged a surprised glance. They turned back to the old man, eager for answers.

"She was someone I am unfamiliar with. As you can imagine, my work requires... _discretion_ to protect my customers and their privacy so I did not ask any questions with respect to her identity."

"Can you at least describe this woman?"

"I can't say that there was much that stood out and I am certain that she was under the influence of quite a few glamour charms, but I can say that she was a short, twitchy little thing."

"When was she last here?" asked Potter.

"Almost exactly a month ago. She has stopped by once almost every month since January with a new item. She only missed March and has always come on a Wednesday -- _that_ I do know."

Draco pondered this. They didn't know for certain when most of the items went missing. The amulet and the compass were both kept in family vaults and out of sight. The Fawleys were lucky that their ancient house elf worshipped old Hector and made a habit of dusting his old memorabilia once every blue moon or who knows if they would've ever noticed. The Flints hadn't stepped foot in their vaults in years and, if it weren't for Marcus' upcoming wedding and his mother's insistence that his bride wear Josephina's amulet, they likewise would not have noticed. Ollivander, on the other hand, kept his family's heirloom framed and posted proudly in the front of his shop so he likely had the most accurate account of when it went missing. In his account in the report, he insisted that the knife must have gone missing, rather specifically, on Tuesday, February 13th, while he had hosted a game of gobstones with friends upstairs in his flat above the shop. The Shafiq's similarly kept their heirloom out in the open on an old writing desk. While their account was a little less reliable than Ollivander, who practically treated the knife like an alter, Draco wondered if it were coincidence that they also reported noticing the quill missing on a Tuesday night?

He pulled Potter aside. "I think these thefts might be happening on Tuesday nights... And, judging by when Ollivander reported the knife missing in February and Shafiq in April, along with Borgin's account of when they showed up last month, it would likely be the second Tuesday of every month."

Potter looked like he was mentally trying to follow his line of thinking. "Wait, isn't today the second Tuesday of June?"

"Exactly," he smirked.

"Malfoy, what are the odds that they'll strike tonight? Do you think we could catch them in action?"

He shrugged. "We'd have to figure out where they're likely to hit next. There has to be some type of connection we're missing."

Harry nodded and stared off in thought. When his gaze met Draco's again, he bit his lip as if he were hesitant to speak.

"Out with it, Potter."

"Ollivander might know," he finally suggested. "He was the first to report his missing heirloom but we have more information now. Maybe the other 3 artifacts or families or even the whole Tuesday thing mean something to him."

"Oh." Draco carefully constructed a mask of nonchalance. "But of course. Excellent idea."

Harry stared at him with searching eyes for a long moment before finally turning back to Borgin.

"Thank you, Mr. Borgin, you've been a great help. By the way, how much was this mystery woman paid for these things, anyway?"

"Altogether? 50,000 Galleon," he said in hushed tones.

Potter whistled. "Now that is some serious business, that is." He smiled as he pulled out a pouch and pointed his wand to direct the still floating heirlooms into it.

Borgin looked mortified and then turned wide, pleading eyes to him as the large antiques disappeared into the tiny pouch, one at a time. "Mr. Potter, no! Please don't! These have cost me a fortune! Surely we could make a deal! How about this: you each can have any one thing that you like? I wouldn't tell a soul!" He smiled toothily.

"No can do, Mr. Borgin." Potter smiled ruefully. "But I assure you, when we catch this woman, I'll make sure to ask her if she could kindly return your money. Although -- here's a thought: maybe it would help if you would STOP BUYING STOLEN GOODS!"

Draco smirked and they headed out the door, feeling exhilarated and triumphant.


	3. Guilt and Wandlore

"Potter, wait..."

Harry paused, one hand on the wood door of Ollivander's wand shop, and directed a raised, questioning brow his way.

The blonde bit his lip and bounced from foot to foot, feeling ridiculously like an 11-year-old about to enter the Forbidden Forest all over again.

"I change my mind! This is a terrible, awful idea!" his words tumbled out as he shook his head emphatically. He had been trying to stave off his simmering panic at the thought of having to face the man that had been held captive in his home for nearly a year and, now that they were actually here... To hell with it all! He wasn't doing it!

Potter, the bugger, just crossed his arms and smirked in response!

"I mean, _really_! There's no need to bother the poor bloke again when I'm sure there are other leads we could be following," he explained. "You know, if _you_ really want to question him then how about you go ahead and I can get a head start on those new leads."

Harry rolled his eyes and his sly smirk spread even wider as he opened the door and walked backward into the shop, green eyes boring into him in challenge.

"Scared, Malfoy?"

Draco huffed.

" _No_!" he responded indignantly, puffing out his chest as he followed Potter across the threshold. "Course not..." he added a little weaker as his eyes raked cautiously down each row of shelving they passed in search of the little wandmaker.

He was surprised when Potter stopped him and put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "It'll be alright, Malfoy. Trust me, Ollivander only ever wants to talk wands."

And as if right on cue:

"Ah! What a treat, indeed!" Ollivander's voice floated down to them as he descended a nearby ladder. "The very gentlemen who rewrote the rules of wandlore, united in my shop!"

"Mr. Ollivander! Sir!" he shouted out, his voice a little too high.

He had been too on edge to even register the man's bizarre statement but Potter was quicker on the uptake.

"I'm sorry, sir -- we did _what_?"

Ollivander now stood before them, examining them both with a scrutinizing eye.

"Oh yes! Two boys, opposite sides of the same coin. Both miraculously the possessors of both a Hawthorn wand and the Elder Wand."

Draco blinked, nonplussed, completely forgetting that he was meant to be a guilty, groveling sap.

" _What?!_ Bullocks, the Elder Wand is just a myth!" He rolled his eyes indignantly, expecting the old man to laugh at any moment now and admit that he was just taking the piss. Instead he just stared meaningfully at Potter who stared back, avoiding Draco's gaze.

"Fascinating case, indeed. Long have we known that a wand will yield to whomever defeats its master but, Mr. Potter, your ability to master the two wands, at once, when typically only the wand in use is up for grabs proved that the rules are different when the Elder Wand is involved."

Draco was lost. He screwed up his face, perplexed. Were they really standing there talking about a fabled wand? Even if the Elder Wand _were_ real, he was as sure as he was blonde that he would have known if he'd ever owned the bloody Wand of Destiny! Clearly the man was going senile.

"Yes, yes -- very peculiar situation, indeed. Even more curious -- I've wondered... Mr. Potter, you presumably returned the Hawthorne wand to Mr. Malfoy?"

Potter nodded and Draco instinctively reached for the wand in his robe pocket only to wince when his hand throbbed in protest. Draco had given up on ever being reunited with his wand after that dreadful day in the room of requirements when Crabbe lost his life and he and Harry nearly did, as well. He was surprised, however, when shortly after his release from Azkaban he received an owl carrying a box containing his wand. Attached was a note from Harry that simply read: _"Thanks for letting me borrow this. HP."_

"And, Mr. Malfoy, the wand has worked for you as it did before? Even without having to win it back?"

He stilled. He had wondered about that once. He'd assumed that it wouldn't work properly but, as soon as he'd held it, he'd felt the magic course through him, reuniting them again at last!

"Yes..."

"Quite unprecedented. Mr. Potter, are you still able to wield the Hawthorne wand?"

Harry shot Draco a furtive glance.

"I wouldn't know, sir."

Ollivander turned wide, fervent eyes to Draco who took a cautious step back, instinctively guarding his wand with his injured hand.

"So very curious... I wonder..." His black eyes peered intently into Draco's as if searching his very soul.

"Mr. Ollivander!" Harry said firmly, snapping the man out of his euphoric gaze. "We are not here to talk about wands. We are investigating a string of burglaries and we were hoping you could give us a bit more information."

The old man perked up, his attention caught. "Did you find Geraint's knife?!"

Draco nodded slowly, still feeling a little bemused. He cleared his throat as he recovered from the strange yet intense interaction from moments before. "Yes... Yes! You'll be able to pick it up from evidence soon enough but we're hoping that you might have some information vital to catching this thief."

"Yes, of course. Anything you need to know! The nerve of the dodgy pillock!" he said angrily.

"Well, since you reported the disappearance of the wood carving knife, the thief has since targeted Hector Fawley's pocket compass, Josephina Flint's enchanted amulet, and Doria Shafiq's golden quill."

They watched as Ollivander's eyes widened to the size of Galleons.

"Do those items mean anything to you?" chimed in Potter. "We're trying to find a connection."

Ollivander opened his mouth to speak but, curiously, no sound came out. He furrowed his brow in annoyance and rubbed his throat, perplexed. He tried again to much the same effect. Finally, a look of comprehension dawned on the old man's face and he shook his head and cleared his throat.

"No, I can't imagine what the connection might be but I really do hope you catch the tosser! Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must get back to sorting the new wands."

Draco and Harry shared matching incredulous looks.

Potter turned a skeptical brow back to Ollivander. "Are you sure, sir? We also believe that these attacks might be happening on the second Tuesday of the month. Does that day mean anything to you?"

Ollivander's eyes went wide again and he sputtered wordlessly for a moment. Draco thought he heard him curse under his breath but when he returned his gaze to them, he simply shook his head.

"No, haven't the foggiest!" he said as he quickly ushered them to the door. "Do let me know when you catch the tosser!"

Draco opened his mouth to protest as they were pushed roughly out onto the cobbled road but the door slammed shut before he could even turn around.

"What in the bloody hell was that?!"

Potter gazed back at the old wand shop, mouth agape. "I have _no_ clue," he shook his head, nonplussed.

"So, what's our next move?"

Harry twisted up his mouth in thought. "I don't know, but..." He reached out unexpectedly to take Draco by his good hand. "C'mon."

Draco felt his his chest constrict and then so did everything else as they disapparated on the spot.


	4. Parts

Draco nearly lost his balance as they landed erratically in an alley that he didn't recognize. There was smoke coming from the vents of a nearby restaurant and the distinct smell of grease from a fryer.

"Potter, you can't just _do that_ without warning, you inconsiderate oaf!" he said, indignantly, brushing dust off the front of his robes.

"Come on, Malfoy." Harry ignored his grumbling and grabbed his arm again, this time leading him onto what seemed to be a busy muggle street. Draco was immediately put off by the loud sounds of the muggles hustling about in their bizarre clothing and on their telemaphones and in their automobiles.

"We need to figure out what our next move is and I know a place that has the best fish and chips in all of London! Might as well eat," he shrugged.

Draco had every intention of refusing except Potter looked adorably excited and -- oh, good grief! When on Earth did he start thinking of Potter as _adorable_?! He sighed and followed Harry into the tiny restaurant.

Harry headed to the counter to order and Draco slid into a booth at a red and white tiled table. He frowned at a couple who looked him up and down curiously, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious and out of place in his robes. He looked over at Potter who looked at ease as he chatted up the cooks behind the counter. There was a telly on that featured that muggle game with the ball on the ground. Potter was laughing freely and talking about whatever the hell that kick ball sport was called. It felt like a weird paradigm shift... In the wizarding world, Potter was always so guarded and serious but, here, he was carefree and in his element despite the fact that he was dressed in Wizards robes. Was this the real Harry Potter? Huh... He supposed that being taken out of and then thrown back into a world where you are expected to be its savior is bound to make a person a little tightly wound...

It wasn't long before Potter joined Draco who was already fast at work, pouring over the case file in the little booth. Potter salivated over whatever foul excuse of a meal he'd just ordered and Draco scrunched up his nose when Harry had the _nerve_ to placed the offending basket of food in front of his face.

"You know you want to try..." he sung, teasingly.

"I would rather _not_ die of a heart attack, thank you very much. Now, can you focus, Potter?" he said without looking up. "How you excel at any of this with the attention span of a gnat is beyond me."

Potter simply shrugged and bit into a chip. "I've been doing this sort of thing since I was 11. It's just second nature at this point, honestly."

"How darling," he responded dryly. 

Potter was blessedly silent for a good 30 seconds while he chewed his artery clogging meal and then: "Malfoy, may I ask what made you decide to become an Auror?"

"No."

"It's just that I always assumed that you'd think this kind of work beneath you..."

Draco finally lifted his head and glared at Potter for a long moment. When Potter didn't back down, he sighed.

"Do we have to do this?"

"Do what? Get to know each other?" Potter looked perplexed.

"We already know each other. I'm the evil, entitled prick and you're the cocky, self-righteous bastard. What more is there to know?"

Harry held his gaze and tapped his fingers on the table in thought.

"I think we both know there's more to the story than that or I don't think either of us would be sitting here right now."

Green eyes stared deep into gray and Draco faltered. When he thought about it, he supposed if anyone deserved an answer to the "why" then it was probably the bloke who made it all possible to begin with.

"I don't know, Potter, maybe I'm a masochist... Or maybe I just wanted any chance at redemption I could get and Auror seemed like the quickest, most tangible shot at it." He stared back at Harry who was watching him astutely. 

"Is it working?" he asked after a beat. 

Draco folded his arms and sighed. Most days he felt like an undeserving piece of shite and the rest of the world did nothing to curb that. The war had been an awful pill to swallow and he'd witnessed so much that made him feel like filth by association. He felt like he was constantly trying to clear his conscious and Potter didn't even know the half of it. Yet, despite his efforts, he felt like he was failing miserably and, at this point, he was doubtful that this stupid job was the answer. 

"If I'm being honest, I'm not entirely sure that this _is_ the way I'm meant to... Make amends, so to speak." He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Oddly enough, your speech this morning causes me to believe that, _you,_ of all people, might be the only person who seems to believe in me on this particular venture. My friends think that I _am_ being masochistic, my father thinks it's a stupid and banal occupation, my darling future in-laws are terrified that I won't be able to provide my betrothed with the life they expected on an Auror's salary --" For some reason, Potter's eyes widened and he blinked, gobsmacked, at this bit of information. "--and Robards has been determined to make this hell for me from the start. I stopped knowing whether or not this is what I truly want to do or just a pipe dream that I refuse to give up on almost a month or so in."

Potter seemed to chew that over along with his chips, his brow furrowed in thought or worry -- he couldn't tell which. Draco pretended to turn his attention back to the case file when, really, he felt raw from the revelation.

It was Potter who first broke the silence again.

"Sooo... You're getting married?" he asked, a little too casually.

"Hmm? Oh yes, the whole arranged marriage, must produce an heir thing is another can of worms in and of itself." He shook his head, not wanting to think about his upcoming nuptials.

"You don't sound too enthused." Draco shot him a scowl but Potter was not to be deterred. "Do you love this woman you're marrying?"

Draco couldn't help his laugh, "Potter, you don't get married in pureblood families for something as silly as love. But, my bride to be is very... agreeable. I'm sure we will get along."

Harry stared at him incredulously. "You really, _really_ _don't_ make that sound appealing, Malfoy." He laughed and shook his head.

"Well, she's not exactly my type, is she?"

He watched as both of Harry's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline.

"Your type?" He screwed up his face in confusion. "Blonde?"

Draco cocked his head to the side and smirked, silver eyes glinting as he studied the man before him. Did he really not know? Sure, he never shouted it from the rooftop back at Hogwarts but it certainly was no secret in the Slytherin house. It was really none of Potter's business but... this could be fun.

"No, definitely not blonde."

Harry looked like he might have a brain aneurysm if he thought about it any harder so Draco opted for a rare but valuable act of mercy on his part: "She has the wrong _parts_ , Potter."

Harry's wheels turned for a moment and Draco chuckled to himself when it became clear that it finally clicked, his mouth forming into an obvious "O."

"Wow." He shook his head. "I had no idea! Malfoy, why on Earth would you be marrying a woman then??"

Draco simply returned his attention to the case file and shrugged. "Its not like a I can produce an heir with a man."

"Draco, you're just _barely_ 21!" Draco stilled at the use of his first name. "You should be dating who you want and hitting up Soho, living it up in the muggle gay clubs! Why are you even worried about something like heirs right now?"

He tried to look nonchalant but his attention was peaked. "Muggle gay clubs, you say?" There was such a thing as gay clubs?

"Yea." Potter looked out the window at the buildings and street signs as if trying to orient himself. "We're not that far from Soho which is London's biggest gay scene. Hey-- you want to go after we solve this case? I've never been myself, obviously," Draco watched as heat rose curiously to his cheeks and he rubbed at the back of his neck. "But maybe you will have fun."

Draco contemplated the boy before him. The idea of experiencing a _gay club_ firsthand, even if muggle, sounded fascinating but THEE question that had plagued him more than he'd ever care to admit over the past few years since his trial was gnawing at him: Why did Potter care? A thought started to niggle at his mind but he squashed it before it could take root and forced himself to stay in the moment.

"Maybe," he said noncommittally before turning back to the case file. "Hmm..."

"What is it?" Potter perked up. 

"It might be nothing but... The whole pureblood family nonsense just made me realize something. Fawley, Flint, Shafiq, Ollivander... These families are all part of the Sacred 28 and, specifically, those who somehow managed to stay completely neutral in both wizarding wars... Well, Ollivander _tried_ to so I suppose that counts."

" _Sacred 28?_ " Potter asked, confused. 

Draco stared at him nonplussed. 

" _What_?! Why do you act like that was a stupid question?"

He shook his head. "My apologies, Potter. I forget that you were raised by muggles and are apparently incapable of reading _A History of Magic_. With a surname like Potter, it boggles my mind that you don't care about family history and lineage."

Potter put down his basket of fish and chips and puffed out his chest indignantly. "I care! Just not about all that blood purity crap." Draco rolled his eyes. "What? Were the Potters a part of the _Sacred 28_?"

"No, your Great-Grandfather, Henry, was too outspokenly pro-muggle during his seat on the Wizengamot to be considered and there was some speculation about possible muggle ancestry." If he weren't mistaken, he was quite sure that Potter looked proud at this news. "The Sacred 28 is a list of the British families who were still considered _truly pureblood_ as late as the 1930s."

"Ok, well why the neutral ones?"

Draco racked his brain. "I don't know... These families aren't particularly wealthy or well connected anymore... Now, of course, it's not surprising that a magical heirloom thief would be targeting pureblood families as we'd have the oldest magical artifacts to pass down. But it is a bit odd that none of the reported thefts belonged to any of the other 22 long lines of pureblood families that had a foot in the war, whether dark or light side..."

"Do they have any other connection besides being on some decrepit list?"

"I don't know, but I know who we need to ask!" he said, standing and gathering his things.

"Wait, who?!"

"Someone in one of the last of the neutral families on that list that have yet to be hit by the thief."

"Which is?"

"You'll find out soon enough! Can we go now?"

Harry eyed the last bit of his food wistfully but nodded. He stood and headed towards the door, shouting good-byes to his friends at the counter along the way. Draco hesitated. He eyed the heavily battered cod warily and, once he was sure that Potter wasn't looking, plopped the last of it into his mouth.

Hmm... That really was quite delicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling nostalgic with the new decade change and thinking early 2000s when I made the title (you know, before emojis 😱? When people put <3s on everything? No? Haha cool 😅). Anyways, I realize it's probably not the easiest title to search so I'm going to switch it from "Draco <3s Spice Girls and Harry Potter" to "Draco Hearts Spice Girls and Harry Potter" before I post chapter 5, I just want to give anyone who's already reading a heads up before I do.


	5. Every Tom, Dick, and...

Draco _gracefully_ apparated them in front of a little boutique in Diagon Alley whose shop window was full of lacy lingerie. Draco smirked and held the door open for a puzzled and slightly red-faced Potter. 

"Stacey, hunny, you have _got_ to think sexier for the leather and lace display!" Pansy directed a blonde witch with pouty lips. His best friend was dressed to kill in one of her power suits, peering through her angled fingers as she tried to manifest her vision. She waved her wand and one of the mannequins sprouted a disturbingly familiar mop of greasy, black hair. "Think wayward potions master and sexy school girl!"

Draco laughed and Potter frowned in distaste.

"Oh! Hello, darling!" she said once she spotted him. His smile faltered as he watched the wicked witch drink up the sight of Harry Potter standing next to him. A grin spread slowly across her face and he caught the foreboding, tell-tale glint in her eye just a moment too late!

"YOU'RE SHAGGING POTTER?!" she screeched.

"What?!" Harry asked, startled and blood rushing to his cheeks.

That was nothing compared to the crimson Draco's pale skin was surely turning. He put his face in his hand. "Pants, no!" he said weakly.

"Oh, _please_ tell me you're shagging Potter! Does Blaise know?! He did mention that ever since Narcissa sent out the wedding announcements you've been shagging every Tom, Dick, and..." She looked at Harry suggestively and he rubbed at the back of his neck, mortified.

" _Pansy!"_ Draco hissed through clenched teeth. He gave her his best _I hate you and you're going to pay for that_ glare. She just smirked and blew him a kiss. Ooh he was going to get her back big time for that one!

"Now if you're done being a crude pain in the arse, Potter and I are working a case and I'm pretty sure there's a good chance your family's going to be robbed tonight."

" _What_?!"

Well that got her attention.

* * *

Pansy sipped her cup of tea with narrowed eyes as she mulled through all the information they'd just given her. They were all sat around a small table in the garden behind her boutique.

"So, is there any connection that you can think of between the five families other than the fact that you all just happen to be neutral?" asked Potter.

Pansy chortled. "Oh, there's nothing coincidental about --" She stopped short and cleared her throat.

"What is it?"

"Hmm... I can't say."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Cut the crap, Pants. Out with it."

She glared at him and then flicked his forehead. "I mean I _literally_ can't say, you twit."

"What?!" he asked, baffled. But then it clicked. He turned wide eyes towards Harry who slowly donned a similar look of comprehension.

"Ollivander!" they said in unison, the man's bewildering behavior coming to mind.

"Ollivander had a similar reaction when he tried to tell us what he knew. Why on earth would _you_ not be able to speak on it when you're not even involved?"

She stared at them silently and rolled her eyes after a few moments of them waiting for her to speak.

"Maybe we could play charades? --it's a muggle game," Potter clarified as Draco and Pansy looked at him puzzled. "Where you act it out with your body and we guess?"

"While that sounds like a lovely idea for you and Draco to do on date nights, how about you just ask me yes or no questions and if I don't say anything you have your answer?"

Draco glared at her and Potter's ears turned red.

"Or, that works, too."

"Ok, let's start with why you and Ollivander might be afflicted by the same tongue tie spell. I'm guessing your family is connected to his?" Draco asked.

She didn't move a muscle.

"Does this have anything to do with marriages?"

"No, but you really ought to check on _your_ betrothed."

" _You're_ not his betrothed?" Harry asked.

"Ha!" Pansy barked. "Of course not! It's Astoria."

"Astoria?" Potter asked, face scrunched up in thought.

"Greengrass. Daphne's sister. Was a couple years younger than us at Hogwarts," she explained.

"Oh."

Draco huffed. "It doesn't matter, can we move on?" he asked, flippantly. "Are your family and the other neutral families all connected?"

No response.

"Ok. And no member of any of the families would be able to speak on this crime?"

"I'm sure anybody could speak on the crimes," she answered, carefully.

"So it's not the crime that Ollivander couldn't talk about but the connection?"

A blank stare.

He frowned in thought. How bizarre. A spell that bound five families and made it so that neither of them could talk about what went on between them. Why? And for how long? Did it run through the blood lines? His eyes widened.

"Pansy, is this a blood curse?"

Silence.

Blood curses were such an ancient and barbaric thing! It had long went out of favor among most who practiced the dark arts.

Potter turned to him. "Draco, that means that whoever targeted these families _had_ to know about the blood curse that ties them which could only mean a member of one of the families..."

His heart lurched at the slip of his name from Potter, yet again. He kicked Pansy under the table before her smirk could get too wide and cleared his throat.

"Yes, and that would also make the perfect cover because whoever it is could bank on it that if anyone figured it out, they couldn't tell the authorities if they wanted to! Pansy, were you about to say that there's no coincidence that your families are all neutral?"

She stared.

"Ok. So there's been some type of alliance made that only these families know of. Whatever the alliance is, the blood curse is meant to protect secrecy and prevent betrayal, is that right?"

Silence.

"Ok, now how does that get us any closer to catching this woman?"

"Draco, darling, you know that you are always welcome at my parent's home, right? Maybe you should stop by around dinner time tonight." She smiled, knowingly. 

* * *

"Malfoy, no. There's no way I'm letting you go in there alone and wandless when we don't know if this thief is going to be there or whether or not they're dangerous."

Draco rolled his eyes. They were standing concealed in the woods on the outskirts of the Parkinson residence. The sun was just starting to set which meant they didn't have much time. 

"Pansy said that _I'm_ always welcome. If I invite Harry Potter into their home through the front door, not only would I likely be responsible for your death but I'd also never get invited back for the holidays! They _loathe_ you, Potter," he added for good measure. 

Potter narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. 

"So what exactly _do_ you expect me to do while you chat up the Parkinsons?"

He sighed. 

"Their vault room is near the cellar." He pointed a finger around the large, Victorian house. "The entrance to the cellar is on the other side. If you go in that way, I can meet you just outside to stake out the vault."

"Why don't you just come with me?"

"Because we both know that if I go through the front, I can get a better gauge of what's going on in the rest of the house."

Harry looked like he wanted to protest but couldn't argue that it made sense. He frowned. 

"Ok, Malfoy. You've got 15 minutes to come find me before I come find you!" he commanded, his chest poking out and his arms flexing with authority. "Why are you looking at me strangely?"

He hadn't realized he had been gawking and biting his lip. He laughed and shook his head as he pulled himself together and mentally noted that bossy, protective Potter was quite sexy.

"See you in 15 then, Potter," he said as he walked off towards the front door. 

He walked up the front steps and let himself in. This had been a second home to him since he was 6-years-old and he knew it well.

"Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson?" he called out.

He heard someone coming and hastily made to bury his robes among the hanging cloaks on the rack by the door. Auror robes were probably _not_ the best way to appear unassuming at the moment.

"Mister Malfoy?" came a small, squeaky voice. He turned to greet the smiling house elf.

"Oh, hello, Boply! Is Mr. or Mrs. Parkinson home?"

"No, sir. Neither is Miss Pansy. Only my eldest master is here, sir. He and his friends have just set down in the drawing room for their monthly gobstones game. Would you like me to let him know that you're here?"

Draco's mouth dropped open slightly as realization hit: Boply couldn't be bound by the blood curse! And as long as no one had ever given direct orders to never answer even the most innocent of questions about family friends...

"No, thank you, Boply. I wouldn't want to disturb them. I'm just here because Pansy wanted me to grab some things for her, I won't stay long. When you say that Grandpapa Parkinson is playing gobstones, it wouldn't happen to be the monthly gobstone game with Ollivander, Shafiq, Flint, and Fawley, would it?"

Ollivander had mentioned a Gobstone game in his report. Could it really be so simple as the five eldest members of the families getting together each month for a game of Gobstones?

"Oh, but of course! Master is hosting it this time and Boply made sure that the drawing room was spotless and made all the favorites! There is treacle tart for Mrs. Fawley, and macaroons for Mr. Greengrass, and sponge cake for Mr. Ollivander --"

"Wait! Mr. Greengrass is here?"

"Yes, sir! Never misses a game! And Boply has helped host the game for six generations!" The little elf swelled with pride.

Shite. Why hadn't he considered the Greengrasses as part of the neutral families? He supposed he had been trying to block out all things wedding related and the merger of their families definitely was a _big_ thing to tuck away. If he did anything now to jeopardize their union then father would surely have his head on a plank.

"You're a good elf, Boply. How about you go on. I'm going to go grab those things for Pansy."

Boply nodded and disappeared with a loud crack.

He walked quietly past the drawing room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the conversation between the elders. He paused just outside the door.

"ONE OF YOU LOT OR YOUR UNGRATEFUL LITTLE DEMON SEEDS MUST BE RESPONSIBLE!" Ollivander was shouting.

"Well, I _never_! Garrick, do not forget that we were also targeted!" came a woman's voice.

"Not these two prats!"

"Really, now, Garrick. Why would any of us steal from one another? These meetings have been going on for 2 centuries and our family ties have kept us all safe through witch hunts, goblin rebellions, and 3 wars--"

"Ha! Kept us all safe my arse!"

"Well, we really couldn't help that you were of particular interest to the Dark Lord, Garrick. What were we supposed to do? Jeopardize the group for the one? We are bound not to--" 

Draco started when a hand landed on his shoulder! He instinctively tried to scream in fright but another hand covered his mouth before he could make a sound. He turned, abruptly, only to come face-to-face with bright green eyes.

* * *

" _Ridiculous, stupid, insulant, bloody prick!_ _Nearly gave me a heart attack_!" he hissed as he quietly stomped through the house with Potter in tow. "And! Let's not forget, could've blown my cover to boot!"

"You said 15 minutes! How was I supposed to know if something happened to you?!"

"Oh, like you care!" He'd said it more out of anger than because he believed it at this point but, apparently, Harry had taken it quite seriously because, the next thing Draco knew, he was pinned up against the wall, his good arm pinned above his head! He gasped and stared back, wide-eyed, into the fire reflected in Potter's eyes as he spoke through clinched teeth, fighting to keep his voice even.

"Cut the crap, Malfoy! Clearly I _do_ and I'll be damned if I lose you because you're being fucking careless!" He glared at him, furious but impassioned, his face only about an inch away from Draco's. The moment lingered. Draco's heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest and his eyes slipped down to Potter's rose colored lips.

Potter broke apart and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, threatening to dislodge his bun.

"Come on, let's go," he said and walked off, leading the way.

Draco stayed a step behind, watching his retreating form, deep in thought. He had always shut down his wayward thoughts about the man before him because Harry Potter was off limits. Potter was the savior and Draco a death eater. They had _hated_ each other... And, most importantly: Potter was decidedly straight.

Wasn't he?

They reached the vault and Draco reached out a hand and Harry turned to face him.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, Potter." Harry's lingering frown softened. A very Slytherin thought crossed Draco's mind. "It's just... Sometimes it's like... Do you remember Cedrick Diggory's birthmark?"

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. "You mean the one that looked like a hippogriff?"

Draco looked off into the distance, a million questions rising while a hundred little answers clicked into place.

"Yea, that's the one," he said distractedly. He stepped to the side so that Harry could unlock the vault with his wand using the combination of taps that Pansy had given them. The tumblers inside the lock clicked and turned with each tap.

"What about it?" Harry asked as the steel door creaked open and he cast a quick _lumos_ before they stepped in.

"Huh?"

"What about the birthmark?"

"Oh! Sorry, Potter. I completely loss the thread with that one. Just... sorry."

Potter nodded and searched the neatly lined cases along the wall for any sign of Perseus Parkinson's staff, the next most likely target for the thief. Draco left him to it for he was currently too distracted to give a damn.

Cedrick Diggory's birthmark had been tiny and on his left inner thigh. The only reason that Draco had ever noticed or dared to obsess over it was because the bloke's enormous dick always hung to the left and his eyes couldn't help but stray to it in the changing rooms after quidditch. The peculiar shape had puzzled him for over a year until he'd finally secretly gawked at the man enough that it clicked that it was, indeed, shaped like a hippogriff. There wasn't a straight bloke alive who would have noticed that detail...

"Potter, are you and Ginevra still together?"

"No, we're taking a break right now," he said, still searching through the heirlooms and other random belongings. Draco frowned when he came across a glass box full of Pansy's baby teeth on a small pillow.

"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that."

Potter shrugged. "Things just got a little hectic with me finishing up training and her just getting drafted to the Harpies." He finally paused at a glass case with the staff in it. He pointed it out as an afterthought as he turned towards Draco.

Draco stared at him for a long moment. He shouldn't care. He _couldn't_ care! And he probably would have left well enough alone if he weren't suddenly so extremely fucking curious about which team Potter played for.

"Are you... dating anyone then? Just having fun until you get back with girl Weasley? What's your deal?"

Potter looked a little confused by the line of questioning but shook his head.

"I'm not all that interested in dating right now. Honestly, dating Ginny right after the war was... a lot. For both of us. I love her, but it feels like the whole thing is a part of this fantasy war hero people expect me to live out. Like I'm supposed to marry my teenage sweetheart because it's what everyone wants but I don't know... I want a family, of course... But, I'm kind of grateful for some time to for us figure out what we want for our own lives versus what we want because _Witch Weekly_ wants it."

"And no girls have caught your fancy during this _break_?"

Harry shook his head. He looked thoughtful as he silently examined the staff. After long moments, he finally turned to fix Draco with sincere, curious eyes.

"Draco, if you didn't have to worry about all the pureblood marriage stuff and you could be completely out and had the option to date whoever you wanted, how would your life be different?"

Draco froze, lips slightly parted. He had no clue how to answer the unexpected query. He'd never allowed himself to ponder that question because it was an impossibility. The dating part was one thing (if dating meant shagging, then he had always had whoever he wanted -- in a very discrete way...) but it was the _"out"_ part that left him flummoxed.

For some reason, he thought of Harry standing lax and laughing freely, without a care in the world at that counter in his favorite restaurant, chatting with a few blokes who understood the muggle parts of him. Images of himself smiling and happy and free came to mind -- a version of himself that he hadn't seen since long before Hogwarts, back when he and Pansy used to play dress up and put on their little shows. Father had long put a stop to that, of course, but to imagine an adult version of himself that didn't have to be _quite_ so guarded -- the freedom giving him permission to be his sassy self without having to mask it in a layer of meanness that disguised the queerness... A world where he had friends and community that actually understood those parts of him and embraced them... A world where maybe he could have Harry Potter by his side as soon as he figured out that he was most definitely bent...

He blinked back at Potter with furrowed brow, his heart racing and his mouth dry.

The moment was broken when they heard the sound of someone trying to get into the vault. Harry immediately stepped forward, wand out and putting Draco behind him. They braced themselves but the person was clearly an amateur and hoping that it would open with a simple _alohomora_. They weren't prepared for Pansy's paranoid parents and their reinforced steal. He raised a brow at Harry who smirked back, determined and cocky. Draco smiled and nodded towards the door.

"Shall we help them out?"

Potter, again, made sure that Draco was behind him before he tapped the door with his wand. He stepped back as it swung inwards to reveal a slight figure dressed in all black, the hood of their cloak pulled low over their face and a scarf wrapped around their nose and mouth. He couldn't tell who it was but their brown eyes went impossibly wide when they landed on him.

" _Protego!"_ they shouted as Potter wordlessly cast. The thick ropes that left his wand bounced off the shield and fell to the floor.

" _Flipendo!"_ The thief shouted the muffled incantation and the large shelves on either side of the door fell forward, blocking he and Potter's exit and giving the mysterious figure a head start.

"Fuck!" Draco growled, furiously reaching for his wand and feeling useless when the bandaging wouldn't let him grip it.

Potter didn't even bother waving his wand as he mentally pushed the heavy shelving out of his way and marched off, determinedly, after the suspect.

Shite Potter could be scary when he wanted to, Draco thought in awe as they took off in chase.

They followed the thief through the wine cellar that Harry had come through and out onto the grounds.

"Stop!" Potter called when they had them in their view across the grounds.

He aimed a spell but the the suspect zigzagged, making it hard to strike. They were almost at the edge of the grounds and still a good 10 feet behind. Draco put his head down and sped up as much as he could.

"Potter, if they make it to the woods they can apparate!" he panted.

" _Arresto Momentum!"_ Potter's spell hit just as the thief crossed into the woods, their leg moving in slow motion. They reached them _just_ in time and Harry reached out first, his hand wrapping around the slender arm right as the mystery person disapparated.

Draco stared at the spot where Harry and the thief had been just moments ago.

"Oh, fuck!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter lol. Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Next update coming Wednesday. There are only 2 more chapters before it switches over to Harry's POV and since the chapters aren't that long, I think I might post them both at once. Stay tuned!


	6. Well Shite

"Shite shite shite shite SHITE!"

This was bad. This was _really_ bad! This mystery thief could have been apparating to any place in bloody England! Potter was already shite at apparitions to places he was extremely familiar with and Pansy's house was completely foreign to him, Draco having apparated them there in the first place... He groaned. Potter wouldn't even know how to get back here if he tried!

He was starting to understand Harry's fervor about not losing him because Merlin forbid something happen, Draco would be _sick_! He tried to push down the panic threatening to bubble up and overwhelm him.

"Potter is an excellent Auror and a magnificent wizard. He can handle this," he reassured himself and then grimaced, grateful that no one was around to hear him admit that aloud.

"Potter will wrap this up and, when he does, where will he go? Where is some place he'd expect me to think of to meet him?"

The Ministry was his first thought but that wouldn't be the first resort for Potter, not without having Draco bring the thief in with him. Robards would absolutely blame Draco for the separation and credit Harry with the capture if they didn't come in together. He could no longer deny that the man truly did seem to care about him, for whatever reason, and want him to succeed.

Any common place that Draco might think of to meet up in the wizarding world would raise a lot of questions and probably garner attention from the press if Harry Potter himself were to show up with a captured and bound prisoner and just sit and wait...

That's it!

Draco was determined to find his partner as he deliberately thought about his destination and disapparated.

He landed smoothly in the alley from earlier. There were no signs of Harry so he decided to go back to the little restaurant and wait.

"Oh, hello there!" called a tall Indian man that he had noticed behind the counter earlier. "You're a friend of Harry's, right?"

Draco nodded and was surprised when it didn't feel like a complete lie. "Have you seen him? We're supposed to be meeting up here again."

"No, but would you like something to eat while you wait? On the house, of course -- Harry never has to pay here and, since you're the first friend he's ever brought, I'll extend the curtesy. I'm Kamal, by the way."

Draco's eyes widened. "Draco. And, really? I'm the first?" He felt inexplicably special but the butterflies that came with the feeling did not mix well with the little seeds of guilt and worry already in the pit of his stomach. Or maybe it was all just hunger since he had stupidly skipped lunch when he was trying to be bougie this afternoon. Right on cue, his stomach growled loudly. "Ah, yes... I would love some of your fish and chips, they were delicious." He said somewhat coyly.

"Aha! No one can resist the fish and chips! Best in London! Coming right up." He turned to put the food in the fryer and Draco picked a seat facing the door to keep watch. His legs bounced restlessly.

10 minutes passed with still no sign of Harry. Kamal came over and sat the basket of fish and chips in front of him.

Draco focused on eating, mindfully savoring the taste and texture of each bite in an attempt to stay out of his worried mind.

15 minutes later, he had finished eating and still no Harry. Kamal came by to take his empty basket.

"Thank you, again."

"Don't worry about it! I'm just so happy that Harry is doing well and has friends who care about him. I was so glad when he was finally able to get away from those godawful relatives of his." He swallowed.

Draco raised a brow. "Yes?"

Kamal nodded. "I'll never forget the first time he came in here. He didn't look more than 6-years-old but I found out later that he was actually 10 -- they just weren't feeding him and were keeping him in confined spaces so he was malnourished." He shook his head ruefully. Meanwhile, Draco's heart was shattering. "I love to cook and I love to eat and a hungry child is one of the saddest things I can fathom. And on top of that, his Aunt and Uncle would have his fat beast of a cousin to pound him into submission. It was awful. I told him that very day that whenever he could get away then this place would always be a safe space and a free meal." He poked his chest out proudly.

Draco suddenly felt incredibly stupid for never once considering that Potter, the man he had always labeled lucky and undeserving of all the love and attention and favor that he got since starting Hogwarts, was actually abused for practically all of his life before he met him. He felt like absolute shite.

Just then, the door opened and in walks a girl, dress in all black with her head bowed and her hands bound behind her back. Behind her was Harry Potter, worried brow searching the restaurant.

Draco was on his feet in seconds and ran right past the woman to shamelessly wrap his arms tightly around Potter's shoulders and bury his face into the crook of the man's neck. He didn't even care when tears began to roll down his face and land there.

"I thought you were gone! I thought you didn't make it!"

Potter hesitantly wrapped strong, warm arms around him. "Shh. Draco, it's ok. I'm ok."

"Draco?!"

He stilled. He pulled away and turned horrified eyes onto Astoria Greengrass.

"Stori?! _You're the thief?!_ "

* * *

"Stori, what in Salazar's saggy left bullocks?" He pressed fingertips to his eyes, or at least tried to since the one hand was still bandaged. He sat down at the nearest table and gestured for her to sit across from him. Potter stood by his side.

He stared at the brunette witch before him, completely baffled. This didn't make sense. He'd counted Astoria and her sister in his small circle of friends for years and he knew her to be smart and _mostly_ kind but with just the right amount of bitchy when she needed to be, just like any good Slytherin. Sure he had been avoiding her lately because he didn't want to even think about how anyone expected the two of them to consummate this wedding or produce an heir, but, still, he would have expected her to find a way to tell him something _this_ big!

"Talk to me, why would you do this?"

Her lip poked out and began to quiver.

"Draco, I... I'm so sorry! I just didn't know what else to do! Our wedding is in 11 days and all my family has done is lie!" He kept his face carefully blank as he listened. "My family isn't as well off anymore as they made it seem when bartering with your parents and we don't actually have the money to cover the wedding! My grandfather insisted that this was the only way! That nobody would notice a few ancient artifacts gone missing!"

He blinked slowly back at her and bit the inside of his cheek. He felt numb and utterly exhausted after the rollercoaster of a day and he was quite sure that he could curl up on the floor right now and sleep forever. How was it only 8pm?

"Astoria. I am rich." He blinked, dazed. "I am ridiculously, stupidly wealthy just off of inheritance alone. I simply do not understand why you wouldn't just tell me. I would have paid for the wedding."

"But tradition! Your parents!" He was feeling exasperated and ready to walk out and go home and crawl into his bed. Oh what bullshit the pureblood dance was. The fact that it could really lead to this was somehow comical in how unsurprising it was. Blood wars, blood curses, blood marriages and family mergers. All serious matters that result in stupid little girls becoming burglars. Now, was he really supposed to arrest his betrothed? Potter placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded for them to talk in the corner.

"She apparated us to her home. I had to arrest her in front of her parents and sister but they have no idea that you had anything to do with the investigation. When they found out what happened, they flooed over to the Gobstone game at the Parkinson residence and explained everything to all the elders who had been robbed. They weren't happy, but they agreed not to press charges so long as they get all of their heirlooms returned. We have to take her in to fill out the paperwork but she will walk free in time for your wedding."

Draco bowed his head and exhaled a long rattling breath.

"Are you ok?" he asked, green eyes searching grey.

"It doesn't even matter. Let's just wrap this up."

* * *

Draco flexed his newly mended hand, grateful for freedom again! Blessedly, Robards' assistant, Anavi, took pity on him and spared him the trip to St. Mungos. Gawain Robards finally entered the stuffy little office and sat down heavily across from Harry and Draco.

"I have to admit, I am conflicted. I've never seen anything like it! For you two to have wrapped this case up so thoroughly in less than eight hours..." Robards shook his head in disbelief. "It's unprecedented! But then to find out that the thief is your bride to be?! Do you know how that could have compromised the case and our department?!" he yelled, turning red in the face. "It's just further proof that you're a liability, Malfoy!"

He winced.

"With all due respect, sir, Malfoy worked this case harder than anyone else could have, especially operating primarily wandless. He used wit, intuition, his knowledge of the communities and grit to crack this case open and he didn't let any of his actions be swayed by any outside influences! Even when it _was_ discovered that the suspect did create a potential conflict to personal interest... If anything shows that someone has what it takes, it's that!" Harry blazed and Draco felt his heart warm.

Robards stared at them with narrowed eyes.

"I don't like it and I still don't trust you, Malfoy. _But_... you two did manage to be the first to complete the task which means you have immunity, _for now_! And let's keep this whole business between us. The last thing we need is _The Daily Prophet_ claiming that we give slaps on the wrist for family indiscretions or something."

Draco smiled ruefully. Somehow, none of this felt as satisfying as he had hoped.

"You ok, Malfoy?" Harry asked after they'd left Robards' office.

"No. But a stiff drink and sleep -- glorious sleep -- should fix that." He shook his head, depleted and already dreaming of his bed.

Potter smirked at him. " _Sleep_? Who needs sleep when there's Pepper Up?"

He pressed a potions vial into his hand and Draco's jaw dropped and he stared back at Harry, incredulously.

"Go get dressed -- I promised you a gay bar!" Draco's eyes widened as he remembered the earlier conversation. "Meet you at your place in an hour? And wear something muggle!" He called over his shoulder as he walked off, giving him no room to argue.

Draco downed the contents of the vial while he stared after the man now sauntering towards the lifts, auror robes draped casually over one shoulder and fitted jeans hugging his arse just right... Steam poured from his ears and he was rejuvenated with a burst of fresh energy just as Potter disappeared from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I might post two today but I have to post and run! Wanted to make sure I got this posted around the regular time but no time to go over next chapter at the moment so I'll have to do it later. Sorry!


	7. Holler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning Listed Applies to This Chapter**

"What, you don't like it?"

Potter was stood on the front step of Draco's London terraced home, staring at him, mouth agape.

"Draco, only you could interpret _'wear muggle clothes'_ to mean go buy a Versace shirt." He rolled his eyes.

"What? I thought it was high fashion?" he said, examining the silk sleeve of his black and gold patterned shirt that simply felt marvelous on his skin! It was loose fitting in a way that accentuated his lithe lines and cut in a deep v that showed a hint of the fine blonde hair on his chest. He also wore black fitted jeans and suede loafers that he thought made him look very high class muggle.

"It is and you look great." Potter rubbed at his neck sheepishly. He wore a simple button up with a black t-shirt underneath and his fitted jeans.

Draco couldn't help his toothy smile and shook his head knowing it probably looked ridiculous. "Ok, Potter. Let's go do some gay stuff and get some firewhiskey."

" _You_ can do all the gay stuff, I'm just here to supervise."

Draco smirked and raised a brow. "Kinky, Potter."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "You know what I mean! Also, they have regular whiskey but, sure, we can go get some of that. I'm probably going to need it," he muttered the last part.

* * *

"I wanna make you hollll-er, and hear you scream my name! I'll give you rules to folllll-ow, so you can play my game! Imagine us togeet-ther, me driving you insane! You will give innn to meeee! Don't be afraid to play my game!"

Harry laughed at him endearingly as he obnoxiously danced around him and sung way too enthusiastically. Draco didn't care if the other boy might think he'd gone around the bend because, for once in his life, he felt free!

He had walked down the streets of Soho with wide eyes, amazed by all the red lights, colorful buildings, rainbow flags, and people dressed in flamboyant clothing or even drag. Every where he turned he was met with a smile, surrounded by people who seemed to have no qualms about just being themselves.

They had settled in at the bar of a night club that was booming the latest new muggle music and Draco was surprised that he liked it. One hour and many drinks later, he was not only smashed but he had also learned most of the words to at least three Spice Girl songs.

"Harry, can you come dance with me?" he whined.

Harry was no where near as drunk as him and had mostly stayed sitting on his stool nursing his one drink. Draco couldn't tell if it was because he was in protective Harry mode and trying to make sure Draco didn't do anything stupid or if, perhaps, he was scared of what might happen if he allowed himself to let down his own inhibitions here.

"I can't dance, Draco," he insisted as the blonde pulled at his hand.

"It's ok. We can just two step!" he said, tugging a little harder and finally getting Harry up on his feet.

Potter groaned but Draco just pulled him closer, wrapped his arms around his neck, and began a slow two-step despite the fact that "Baby One More Time" by Britney Spears was hardly the right song for a slow two-step. But it didn't matter. He just wanted Harry close to him.

"Thank you, Harry," he said, gazing into green eyes that were closer than they'd ever been before.

"For what?" he asked, voice horse and finally giving in and putting his hands cautiously on Draco's waist.

"For too much to name."

Harry stared back and there was warmth and tenderness there.

Fuck this, Draco needed to get closer! He temporarily removed his arms from Harry's neck to adjust Harry's grip so that this arms hugged him tightly around the middle, bringing them flush together and...

Harry gasped as his half-hard cock connected with Draco's. He started to pull away but Draco kept him close.

"Draco, I'm not gay!"

"It's ok, it's just dancing," he said, staring lost into beautiful, trepid eyes. They were both growing harder and harder through their denim. He put one arm back on Harry's shoulder and reached up with his newly healed hand to cup his face. Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. He took a deep breath as if praying for the will-power.

When he opened his eyes again, so much conflict warred there. "Draco, we can't."

"Are you sure?" Draco leaned in so that his forehead was resting on Potter's, his lips so close that all Harry had to do was lean in just a bit more...

Soft, slightly chapped lips brushed against his and he could feel Harry's fast, heavy breathing ghosting against them. They kissed so sweetly, so gentle that Draco nearly came undone.

Harry pulled back and rested his head on Draco's.

"Draco, I'm sorry. We can't go down this path."

Draco pulled back to get a better look at him but Potter stared down at his shoes.

"Why can't we?" In that moment, he wanted Potter more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

"Draco, you're about to get married in less than two weeks!" he said, somewhat hysterically.

"So? We could still have tonight."

Harry stilled and pushed him away, furious and hurt. Draco shrunk.

"Really, Draco?! I cannot just be another shag for you!"

What? Was he saying he wanted this? Furthermore, was he saying he'd want more than a shag? Draco blinked at him, befuddled and slightly too drunk to think about all these feelings right now.

"I don't even have casual sex with girls! And you want me to... to flip my whole world upside down and lay myself bare just so you can have one night of fun?!" He was fuming.

No no no no no. He had hurt this beautiful man that he loved. He was drunk but this much he knew was true.

"Harry... You would want more than one night with me? You would want _more_? With me?"

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck. "I don't know, Draco. I think... maybe I could... I don't even..." He looked so conflicted and Draco wanted to reach out again and sooth him. Harry shook his head, bemused. "It doesn't matter! This is all too much and a week and a half is not enough time for me to figure it out -- for _us_ to figure it out! And _that_ is why we can't go down this road."

He nodded. He got it. And Potter was right because he couldn't back out of this wedding, not now... His eyes were burning as the possibilities that he never knew were possibilities slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. The fates were cruel and surely he deserved this. He turned away so his hurt wouldn't show.

"Draco, I'm sorry. I should go. Let me take you home."

"No!" Draco huffed. "You run along, I'm having fun. Go do whatever it is you bloody need to do."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, completely dislodging it from its bun. It would have been a beautiful sight, had he not been so angry at him, the way soft black hair tumbled down past his shoulders and framed his face.

"Malfoy, let's go," he said, firmly.

"No!" he shouted, crossing his arms petulantly.

"Fine!" Potter threw his hands up in exasperation and stomped off towards the door.

And that's when the tears came. And then the flat out drunken sobbing in the middle of a muggle gay bar in Soho, London.

"Ooh! Sweetie!" A girl in a tiger striped, hot-pink neon tank top and hot pants was embracing him. "You don't need him anyway! Fuck men!"

"Oh, come on. Let's buy you a pint," said her friend dressed in a matching neon green fit as they ushered him over to a seat at the bar.

This is where things got blurry. They couldn't have been cooing over him for more than a few minutes before a handsome, dark-haired bloke, whose actual face Draco couldn't remember if he tried, approached him.

"Aww, you're too pretty to be crying over any bloke. Come with me, I'll help take your mind off of it."

The idea of being distracted from the myriad of emotions he couldn't possibly deal with right now didn't sound like a bad idea at the time and it vaguely registered in his cloudy mind that, if this were to lead to sex, then it may be the last time he got to get dick for the rest of his life if he actually honored the stupid vows he was planning to make. Draco stood and wobbled but the bloke wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him and helped lead him off to the rest room.

Once inside, the man backed him up against the wall of the stall and kissed him roughly, wedging his thigh in between Draco's legs. The room was spinning and Draco wrapped his arms around his neck, if only not to fall, his eyes closing of their own volition. He didn't remember letting go of the bloke's neck but he gasped when he was abruptly spun around and his wrists were pinned above his head in one of the man's hands while he fumbled around to undo Draco's belt and unzip his jeans with the other. Before he knew it, his pants were around his ankles and rough hands were pulling his hips back. Just as the man began to flounder with a strange foil package, the door flung open with a bang.

"Bloody hell!" he heard the man say. "Can't you see it's occupied?!"

The lights began to flicker on and off uncontrollably. Somewhere in his hazy brain Draco registered that something was happening but he was currently losing the battle against his weary eyelids. He leaned against the wall in defeat but the sound of a familiar voice --his favorite voice, in fact, he decided -- made his eyes fly open again.

"If you don't get your fucking hands off of him _right_ now, killing you will be the easiest decision I've ever made in my life." Harry's voice was calm and even and frighteningly at odds with the fury radiating off of him in palpable waves.

Draco turned to see the random bloke backing away with hands raised and cock still out as Harry Potter stood in the middle of the room, his face contorted in fury and long hair whipping around him as if caught in a windstorm instead of standing in a dingy club bathroom.

He heard running footsteps and the swing of the door. The last thing Draco remembered was sliding down onto the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we've come full circle :-)
> 
> I kept my word! Glad I was able to get the second one out today, I feel like this one and the last chapter just feel right read together. Hope you're enjoying so far!
> 
> (Glimpse into Harry's world starting next chapter!)


	8. Not Bent

Harry lifted his face against the warm, evening breeze and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. He inhaled deeply and tried to catch his bearings but the music blaring from the bar he’d just stepped out of pulsed through him, the vibrations at odds with the speeding rhythm of his heart.

_Merlin!_ Did he really just _kiss_ Draco Malfoy?!

The door swung open as someone exited behind him and he caught glimpse of a shock of white-blonde hair still visible where he'd left Draco standing on the dance floor just a moment ago. 

He groaned and put his face in his hands. What in the _bloody hell_ had just happened? And how, in the name of all that was holy, did the night diverge into him yelling at the prat about not being able to give him _more_ , of all things?

And... he wondered as he looked around the vibrant street at the happy, colorful clubgoers all around him and the two blokes snogging mere feet away, what did it mean that a part of him wished that he was still in there with him, arms wrapped around his waist while Draco sung about wanting to make him holler...

He shook his head. He absolutely, positively, certainly was _not_ bent. He couldn't be... Sure, he had felt the magic flowing heavy and tense between them all day but... things were always intense between he and Malfoy! Besides, they were wizards which meant that surely there had to be some complex, magical, mythic explanation for it, right? That's how most things worked in his life!

"Are you alright, mate? You're looking a bit peaky..."

Harry turned to find a fit bloke with spiky hair and frosted tips who'd popped out for a smoke. He was eying Harry, warily.

He swallowed. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Are you and your boyfriend doing alright?"

"He's not my..." He shook his head. "I'm not gay." He said a little too emphatically.

"Really? But you two look so in love!" Harry blanched. "See, there you go again, _peaky_. Would you like to bum a fag?"

Harry eyed the cigarette, longingly, the thought of a quick stress relief oh so temping... _But_. He hadn't smoked in 2 years and Ginny would be appalled to know he was even considering it -- one of the many awful vices he'd picked up after the war and, fortunately, one he'd successfully given up. The thought of Ginny made his stomach drop to the floor. He finally shook his head in response to the friendly bloke's offer.

"Bugger. Well I do hope you feel better, mate. And sorry to hear you're batting for the other team, I was hoping I might have a chance if you needed a quick rebound." He winked and Harry's jaw dropped as the man walked off back into the club.

He plopped down onto the curb and massaged his temples. 

What _would_ Ginny think if she knew that he had kissed a bloke? It had been _her_ idea to take a break and for them to " _explore life without each other_ ," but he highly doubted a gay tryst with Malfoy, the one bloke from school that she still despised more than anyone, was what she imagined.

The quick and _Daily Prophet_ friendly version he'd given Draco earlier was true, but only the tip of the iceberg. He still felt so guilty about all he'd put her through. Ginny had insisted that she could handle his baggage right after the war but, thinking back on it, what did they know? They were only 17 and 18 at the time with no way of knowing what exactly healing through the magnitude of that mess would entail. Being a public figure had meant that he always had to be buttoned up and put together for the rest of the wizarding world to see, to remain the strong, powerful hero that they expected him to be. Unfortunately, it also meant that, behind closed doors, that left Ginny to deal with all of his shite.

She was the one who was left to talk him down from his rage at the world or to pick him up off of the floor after his many alcoholic benders or to force him to go and see a mind healer when he started to give up hope. She stood by him when he had decided to open his center for children affected by the war and entertained his need to get the fuck out of the wizarding world every now and again.

It was only within the past year that they were able to focus on having an actual relationship that wasn't just her taking care of him. They didn't have that intense passion that you saw in muggle movies but they were doing ok for a good few months. That's why he was surprised that it was when things were finally going well that she had asked for the break. She framed it as being about what was best for him, as she always did, but he had a hunch that it might've really been because she'd wanted a break for a long, long time but was just too afraid to admit it and it wasn't until now that she thought that Harry might be well enough to handle it emotionally.

And he was ok with that. He _was_ so much stronger and she deserved to be free. At the very least for a little while until they decided if they wanted to come back together.

But now he had kissed Draco Malfoy. And whatever the fuck _this_ was had only come in moments but even those moments were already intense and passionate... He didn't even want to tempt unraveling all the work he'd done with his mind healer for something that was destined to end in yet another loss. He didn't think he was _that_ strong.

Nope. Not worth it. And, _again_ , he wasn't even gay!

He exhaled a long, shakey breath and stood to head back into the bar to drag Draco's drunk arse home. 

NSYNC berated his ears as soon as he stepped through the door. He searched for the telltale shock of hair that always made him aware of exactly where Draco was in any room. His heart skipped a beat in panic when he realized that he wasn't there. He hadn't seen him walk out so, naturally, he headed towards the restrooms. 

"Hey! You're that mean guy!" Some drunk girl in a neon pink catsuit blocked his path and pointed a finger at his chest. "Leave him alone!"

He raised a brow in confusion. 

"Yea! He's back there with a bloke who is going to make him forget all about you! And he's nicer, too!" her equally pissed counterpart said, pointing a thumb at the restroom.

"Wha--" he started to ask before the ridiculous things they were saying started to click into place. He tried to keep his voice even as a mixture of panic and anger began to bubble in his core. "Are you saying... that the blonde bloke that I was with... the one who was so pissed he could barely stand up proper or string together two full, coherent sentences... Are you saying that he went to the restroom alone with a complete stranger?"

He felt his magic building up within him but he was fighting to control it.

"Oh," said the girl in the pink who now donned a troubled brow. "Well, when you put it like that..."

He could hear the sound of barstools across the room trembling and rattling against the floors.

He and Healer Bubblykicks had done a lot of work to help him understand his rage. He had been struggling to come to terms with all of the things that had happened in his life to make him intimately acquainted with that oh so fun mixture of extreme anger and helplessness. The Dursleys had taught him to feel rage at a very early age. Voldemort, being the ultimate wanker, was a constant source of rage. Umbridge's very existence: rage. Dumbledore constantly keeping him in the dark had led to rage. Nearly every single person he began to get attached to being snatched away from him, so much fucking pain that the average person couldn't begin to imagine with a heaping side of _rage_. Amycus Carrow spitting on Professor McGonagall = _intense_ rage. Being a good person, and very conscious about trying _not_ to hurt others, he didn't always have an outlet for that rage and he learned to turn it inwards until he finally imploded after the war. But, Healer Bubblykicks had helped him to find healthy outlets for that rage and the feelings underneath them.

As he thought about what might be happening to Draco in that bathroom and the lights began to flicker and the music started to skip, he thought that, depending on what he discovered when he opened that door, she might be very disappointed because he was fairly certain that he might've actually reached the level of rage where _Avada Kedavra_ felt like a pretty damn good outlet for it.

* * *

"Draco..." Harry breathed as he rushed to him, anger melting into concern and something warm and nurturing.

"Draco?!" he said again, hoping to rouse him as leaned over the undone, limp figure slumped over on the bathroom floor. He ran a hand through his hair, racked with guilt. "I'm so sorry! I never should have left you! Not even for a moment!"

Draco's eyes fluttered open slightly and Harry helped him sit up. It took some effort from that angle but he was able to get his pants back up around his hips and jeans buttoned, all while trying to give him the decency of not looking.

He scooped Draco up in his arms and carried him out of the bathroom, through the club, and disapparated as soon as they reached the nearest deserted alley.

"Please be ok!" he prayed as he appeared in front of Draco's home. 

Gratefully, when he reached the door, it unlocked and opened before him. It was odd, he had been struggling to get the hang of this whole wandless thing for months but, ever since he'd been around Draco, it'd been flowing out of him left and right. 

He froze when he realized that Pansy Parkinson was asleep in the overstuffed chair by the fire in the sitting room. He guessed that she'd stayed up waiting for Draco. Just as he had the thought that he _really_ didn't want to have to deal with any more Slytherins today, the deep, yawning voice of Blaise Zabini floated towards them through one of the doors.

"Draa-aco, is that you? You home?"

Shuffling footsteps headed their way and Harry made a bee line for the opposite room which he prayed was Draco's. 

The door closed behind him with a clack and his mouth hit the floor as he took in the decadent gold and cream decor and crystal chandelier hanging over an ornate four poster. Ok. Definitely the right room, he thought. He was about to roll his eyes but then he glanced down and his heart clutched. Wide, smokey grey eyes were staring back at him, watching him carefully.

Harry laid him down gently in the bed.

"Are you ok, Draco?" he asked, brow worried. 

"'m hot," he said, irritably pulling at his clothes and beginning to strip out of them.

"Erhm..." Harry looked away. "Would you like some pajamas?"

He looked around and walked over to a nearby dresser to look.

"No, I just want you."

Harry stilled, his back towards Draco. He exhaled loudly and selected a silk pair of pajama pants from one of the drawers.

"Put these on, please." He tossed them towards the bed without looking. He was almost surprised when Draco did as he was told without protest. 

Harry looked around for a glass of some sort but was distracted when his eye was caught by a large floor plant surrounded by the glowing haze of a well cast warming charm and situated in front of the vast picture window that took up most of one wall. Birds of Paradise. His heart warmed as a puzzle piece clicked into place that only added to the complexity that was Draco Malfoy. He looked back warmly and shook his head at the man who, somehow, managed to look angelic even though he was completely pissed. Right. Water.

His transfiguration wasn't great but he did manage to turn a candle into a cup and walked over to the ensuite bathroom to fill it with water.

When he returned, it was to the beautiful sight of a shirtless Draco Malfoy lying in bed with nothing but silk pajama bottoms pulled low over his hips. His left arm was now raised and covering his eyes, leaving his Dark Mark on display in reckless abandon. Harry didn't know why, but it felt so unbelievable intimate to see Draco laid bare like this. No guards, no masks, just a broken human being who was trying hard to figure out how to put the pieces back together, like him. He drank up the sight of him in the dim moonlight and had the sudden urge to kiss the faint scars on his chest and abdomen. He swallowed thickly. 

_Focus, Harry._

"Drink," he commanded.

"Harry, you know I love you, right?"

Harry swallowed hard. "You're just drunk, Draco. You need to hydrate. Sit up and drink."

He watched as Draco shook his head, eyes still covered.

"No, not _just_. I do. I do love you." His words were still slurred and Harry wanted them to stop. He didn't know if he could bare hearing them in the first place and especially didn't want to hear them and have to spend the rest of his life questioning whether the drunken man had actually meant them. "Wish things were different."

_No!_ He needed to get out of there, and soon! It was pointless to even think about wishes. The fact remained that Draco was still a coward who would do anything to uphold whatever face his parents needed him to wear, including marrying some crazy arse girl.

_And Harry wasn't bent_!

"I wish it was you. Only you." Draco had removed his arm and fixed Harry with red, watery eyes. Harry's heart tugged at the tears running down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. Wish I was different. Wish I was stronger. Love you," he sniffed and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

Harry was surprised when his own eyes started to burn. He hesitated, taking in the sight of the beautiful boy before him. He walked over to Draco's side and carefully tucked him in. He looked so peaceful in this state. Harry took a deep breath, his exhale shaky as he leaned down to gently plant a kiss in soft, blonde hair.

He shook his head and then took out his wand to cast a disillusionment charm on himself before walking back out of the door.


	9. David Beckham is Objectively Fit

"Oi, you ok, mate?" Ron asked as they left the Ministry in search of good curry come lunchtime. "You got stunned three times during a drill that you've literally done with your eyes shut before! What's got your knickers in a twist?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm just a little distracted."

Distracted was an understatement. He kept reliving every moment of the previous day on a loop, trying to understand how things had gotten to where they did.

"Still recovering from having to spend a full day with that ferret? I'm telling you, mate, you've too much of a bloody bleeding heart. I don't care if you _do_ think he's turning over a new leaf, I would have let the prick get the axe." He shrugged, casually tossing and catching one of the counterfeit sneakoscopes that he'd confiscated during his own mission yesterday. "Where is he today, anyway?"

Harry had been wondering that, himself, all morning. Draco had been noticeably absent from drills today and, considering the state of him when he'd left last night, Harry really hoped that he was ok. If he were being honest though, he was really kind of relieved because -- what on Earth are you meant to say to a bloke after you kiss them, yell at them, tuck them in, and they tell you they love you?

And why did he feel so incredibly confused and conflicted after everything that happened yesterday when it was an undeniably, irrevocably, black and white, open and shut case? Logic was yelling at him: _"Run away!" "It's a bad idea!" "You like GIRLS, Harry!" "He's getting married, you twit!"_

"Did you know that Draco is getting married?"

Ron paused and shot him a strange look. "First name basis are you, now?"

" _Malfoy_ \-- sorry!" he corrected, realizing too late that that was probably a more suspicious response than just saying _yes_.

Ron raised a curious brow but answered the question. "Yea, to Astoria Greengrass. Technically, I'm invited to the wedding since I think Astoria is my second cousin twice removed or something like that but there's no way in hell my family's showing up to that elitist shite show."

Harry was reluctant to ask this next question. He wasn't sure how Draco would feel about others knowing and it had the potential to open up a can of worms... In the end, his burning desire to talk about at least _some_ part of this with someone prevailed.

"Did you know that he's gay?"

"Well, yea... Harry..."

"What?! You knew?!" he asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

"You _didn't_? Honestly, mate, how many straight blokes do you know that care _that_ much about poncy arse clothes or their hair?"

"Huh..." Now that he mentioned it...

Ron slowed in his tracks, a distinct look of worry taking over his features which surprised Harry. Ron swallowed thickly for some reason. "Mate... What happened yesterday?"

Harry blanched. Oh no. Can of worms.

"Nothing! We actually worked really well together..."

Ron was shaking his head adamantly. "No. Un-un. _No_."

"Ron, what are you--"

"I _knew_ there was no way you two working together could end well," he was saying more to himself than anything. "I _told_ Hermione this would end in disaster but she was all ' _Oh, Ronald, you're being ridiculous. Oh, it'll be fine, Ronald.'_ \-- you know how she gets--"

"What?! No! It wasn't bad, really! We even went out to celebrate winning the challenge..."

Ron looked like he was having some sort of fit. Finally he turned to face Harry and placed both hands on his shoulders, all of which was starting to make Harry wonder if he was going round the bend.

"Merlin, Harry! Please, _please_ don't tell me you're falling in love with Malfoy!"

Harry felt the heat rush to his face and neck. Why people liked to underestimate his best mate always baffled him. Ron had the impeccable ability to cotton onto things quicker than anyone he knew (besides Hermione, of course) and it made him an excellent Auror. Granted, he had a habit of posing his theories in ways that sounded so ridiculous and nonchalant and easy to discount that even Ron didn't believe them, himself, half the time. But, as usual, this time he had been right on target.

"No! Of course not! Ron, how could I be? I'm not bent..." He said that last part a little weaker than he had intended.

Ron responded with a rueful smile.

"What? You think I'm bent?!" His jaw dropped. Did his best mate think he was bent?! And for how long?!

Ron went tight-lipped.

"I'm not equipped to have this conversation," he said, reaching out to grab Harry by the arm and leading him back towards the ministry. "I need reinforcements."

It was in that moment, when he realized that Ron was foregoing curry, that it occurred to him that maybe this was a bigger deal than he thought.

* * *

"Both of you! Calm _down_!" Hermione insisted, wearily. She looked disheveled and was clearly pouring too much of herself into her work, again. They were hovering over her desk -- which was covered in files about house elf rights -- and both fighting to get a word in over the other.

"Hermione, I am not gay," he insisted. "I'm dating Ginny! We're just on a break!"

"Well..." She gave him that same rueful smile that Ron had. "Harry... You know... Ginny thought that you guys should go on a break so that you could explore some things..."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, so I could explore life not being a messed up, needy, dependent bastard before we decide to settle down and..." Hermione and Ron exchanged matching looks of incredulity. "What? Wait, does _Ginny_ think I'm gay?!"

"No, Harry, of course not. But maybe bisexual..." Hermione squeaked out and then shrunk back as if expecting him to get angry. He didn't though, he stood in silence for a moment putting puzzle pieces together in his head, Ginny's cryptic breakup finally making sense. Was it possible that all of his friends had picked up on something _that_ important before he had?

He had fancied boys, in a way, before but that was normal, wasn't it? Oliver Wood, Cedrick Diggory, Viktor Krum, Draco Malfoy... Didn't most wizards admire good, fit Quidditch players? It was like, with muggle sports, who didn't think David Beckham was the hottest thing under the sun? Was that... not normal? He blushed.

He conjured a seat and then sat down with his head in his hands. Finally he looked to his best mates.

"What makes _you_ _guys_ think that I might be bi?"

"Just... little things. Like comments you make nonchalantly about guys without thinking twice about it." His cheeks warmed again. He'd definitely said the thing about David Beckham aloud to Hermione before. "It's actually pretty cute whenever you do it." She smiled.

"And, it was always pretty obvious that you and Malfoy had way too much sexual tension, mate, even if it was wrapped up in hatred. And ever since you got it into your head that he's the anonymous benefactor, you've been giving him goo-goo eyes left and right."

Harry groaned. That was another thing that had driven him crazy about working with Draco yesterday. The whole time, he kept looking at him with that one burning question in his eyes: " _Why do you care?"_ Draco seemed too afraid to ask it and Harry had been too afraid to let him know that he had figured out some things that were meant to be very personal and private and that only someone who was already _slightly_ obsessed with him would have ever strung together in the first place.

After the war, the ministry offered Harry a large sum of money along with his Order of Merlin. Harry had initially refused it, the situation feeling eerily like 4th year and accompanied by just as much guilt at the idea of being rewarded when people had died that he couldn't protect. But, like with the Triwizard winnings, he realized that just because he didn't want the money, didn't mean that it couldn't be invested in those who could use it. And with that, he created the Hedwig Center for children affected by the war.

It was still in the planning stages and in need of some serious investors when they received an anonymous donation of 200,000 galleons! It was enough to turn what was initially going to be a small orphanage into a booming community with a focus on healing, mental health, and supportive connection. Harry saw it as no coincidence that the money came the same week that Draco was released from Azkaban. He thought that it might be some big, showy attempt to thank him for speaking on his behalf during his trial, veiled in the thin guise of anonymity because, of course, Draco didn't know how to do anything small. He couldn't be sure, though, and he didn't want to make too much of it if it were true. Throwing money at something wasn't hard when you had it in surplus and certainly didn't mean reform when you were already as rich and pandering as the Malfoys.

But then there were some smaller things that Harry noticed that made him wonder if the still bristly boy who was now his peer in Auror training might actually be remorseful and trying to find his own ways towards redemption.

The first sign was when he noticed that, at some point within the last three years, whenever he would visit the graves of Dumbledore or Remus and Tonks, he began to find beautifully crafted bouquets of exotic looking, colorful flowers on each headstone. Birds of Paradise and Calla Lilies, Neville had said when Harry brought him a still picture he'd taken on a muggle Polaroid. Apparently, the strange flowers need to be grown with great care and a fair bit of magic to survive in this region and Neville casually revealed that Narcissa Malfoy was the only one he'd known to have successfully grown them in her garden. At first, he was bemused. Maybe it was Narcissa -- Tonks was her niece, after all. But why Remus? Would such a devoutly prejudiced woman really have such sympathy for her estranged niece's werewolf husband that he wasn't even sure she personally knew? And then, why Dumbledore? And the gravesites were so very far apart... Why would she possible care so much as to make regular visits to both? But it finally clicked one day when he was visiting Mad-Eye's grave at a completely different cemetery and he noticed the colorful bouquet on a distant headstone. When he went up to the grave and realized that it belonged to Vincent Crabbe, it all suddenly made sense.

The third thing that really sealed the deal, and perhaps Harry's fate in going "goo-goo eyed" and caring way too much about the blonde git, was when Teddy started to gets posh gifts from 'Santa' every year that were far too extravagant for a toddler. Last year's box set of little practice snitches with the Black insignia on them were kind of a dead give away. Andromeda cursed whoever sent them every time Harry would release them in the house and pick Teddy up to zoom him around and try and catch one, but she didn't know who they'd come from. She entertained his theory that it might be from her estranged nephew, mostly for Harry's sake, but she remained skeptical because she insisted that Draco had never even met Teddy.

Everyone he told seemed skeptical, in fact, but Draco's wretched cause leaving his newborn cousin an orphan was the only common thread he could find in the three examples and, being a good Auror, that left him with no choice but to conclude that all signs pointed to Draco Malfoy being more complex than anyone was willing to give him credit for. If he were being honest with himself, he was also terrified to ask Draco about it and find out that he was wrong. But, last night, he'd finally gotten some proof!

Ok, what more was there to deny.

"Ok. So, I'm bisexual and I'm possibly in love with a man who is getting married in less than two weeks but wants to have sex with me and drunkenly admitted to loving me and seems to think it perfectly alright for us to just make the most of the time we _can_ have together. You two have it all figured out so please tell me: What in the bloody hell am I supposed to do with that?"

"Burn it with fire and start over with the next bloke?" Ron gave him an apologetic smile.

His heart sank. He knew that Ron was probably right, he should absolutely leave this all alone and find a way to just push it out of his mind but...

"I know that look, Harry." Hermione gave him one of her knowing, worried looks. "I know it's hard for you to let _anything_ go without chasing it down and finding out exactly where it leads, but, I don't have to tell you that this has the potential for you to get hurt very, very badly..."

"I know, Hermione."

She sighed. "We're going to be here for you, no matter what. Just be careful."

He swallowed thickly then nodded.


	10. The What Ifs

Harry hovered nervously outside of the terraced home on the quaint little block on Elderberry Road. He'd taken the tube instead of apparating directly in the hopes that the nearly hour long ride from the ministry would give him time to think up _something_ to say but, alas, he was no closer to knowing how to approach this now than he probably ever would be. He took a deep breath and, conjuring up some Gryffindor courage, rapt briskly on the brass knocker.

A moment passed before the bemused blonde opened the door.

"Potter?"

"Draco..." His heart skipped as he realized that he was still wearing the pajamas from last night though he had (sadly, Harry thought) found its matching long sleeve silk top. "Are you alright?"

Draco's cheeks turned pink.

"I'm fine, nothing that a hangover potion couldn't cure..." The blush spread to his neck and an awkward silence hung heavy between them.

"Look--" they both said at the same time.

"No, go ahead!" Harry insisted.

"Right," he said, crossing his arms and putting on his best diplomatic airs. "Potter, I'd like to apologize for anything I said or did last night--"

"Please don't," Harry cut him off, a plea in his eye. He watched as blonde eyebrows threatened to disappear into Draco's hairline.

"You... You don't want me to apologize?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

Harry swallowed hard and shook his head slowly.

"Are you sure?" he raised a questioning brow. "Because it _would_ give us both permission to pretend that none of that ever happened..."

"That's the thing." He shook his head again and stared back into guarded, gray eyes. "I don't think I want to..."

Draco's face softened as comprehension dawned. Harry's eyes were drawn to the way he worried his lip, conflicted. Finally, Draco took a big step back and opened the door wide to let Harry in.

* * *

Harry rolled his eyes at the dark green walls, mahogany floors and furniture, and pretentious, rich leather seating that made up the sitting room. Draco had left him to his own devices as he busied himself making tea in the adjacent kitchen. 

"Do you and Zabini _have_ to make it absolutely clear which house you're from?" he asked as he made his way over to the mantelpiece where an array of framed moving pictures and portraits caught his eye. 

In one, Zabini pretended to scowl while his mom, a gorgeous woman with long, thick, black hair showered him with kisses. Every now and then, portrait Zabini would smile wryly, clearly loving the attention.

There was one of the whole Slytherin gang in the stands at the first task of the Triwizard competition, laughing and joking and sporting _Potter Stinks_ badges. Harry chuckled softly when he noticed 14-year-old picture Malfoy look up, shocked and mesmerized, as a boy-on-a-broom-shaped shadow crossed over the crowd. 

It was the third portrait that Harry found the most interesting, however. In it, the sun shined down ethereally on the Malfoys as they stood under the arched floral trellis of a beautiful garden. Judging by his hair (which, yes, Harry had committed to memory), Harry guessed that Draco must've been about 13-years-old. Judging by Narcissa's stressfree countenance and Lucius' smile, it was definitely pre-Voldemort's return. Narcissa stood behind Draco and wrapped her arms around him to pull him into a tight, loving embrace. Draco smiled and turned to his father who beamed back with such love and pride in his eyes for his prodigal son. 

"Ok, Potter." Harry straightened out as Draco marched back into the room, now donning a look of determination. He placed the tray on the coffee table and then briskly turned to face Harry with arms folded firmly across his chest.

"Potter, you were right. I was a selfish prick to stir any of this up last night. I'm getting married in 10 days and I can't change that," he said in a rush.

"I know."

"And regardless of how I feel, to stir any of that up for _you_ was unfair." He shook his head quickly.

"I know."

Draco blinked at him, dumbfounded. Harry supposed he was used to more fight from him but fighting was the last thing he wanted to do right now. 

"Ok... So..." His ears turned red. "Why are you here?"

"Did you mean it?"

Draco's eyes widened. A moment passed before his face softened again. Finally, he hung his head and exhaled audibly. 

"Yes."

Harry stood so that they were face to face.

"What if..." He bit his lip, hesitantly. "What if I might feel the same?"

Draco lifted his head, shocked. He shook it slowly. 

"Potter, don't..." 

"Just... What if?"

Draco's lips parted as forlorn, grey eyes stared into Harry's.

"Then that might just be the most tragic thing I've ever heard, Harry." It was the first time it'd left his sober lips and his voice broke on the name, along with a tiny piece of Harry's heart. Draco looked away and cursed himself. Harry reached out to gently tilt the other boy's chin so that they were eye to eye again, their faces inches away.

Maybe it was foolhardy, maybe _he_ was the one that was masochistic, but Hermione was right: It was the what if's that he couldn't live without knowing...

"Draco, what if we _could_ just have one night?"

Draco took a step back and grey eyes searched green, sceptically.

"Potter, you were right. I don't think this can be just another shag for either of us and _you_ were supposedly ' _straight_ ' as of last night." He did finger quotations and crossed his arms again.

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck, sheepishly. "About that. Apparently I'm bisexual. According to Ron and Hermione, I have been for some time." He shrugged. 

Draco chuckled, the ice breaking with the sound of it. "Well, I'm certainly glad that you've _at least_ worked that part out because, Merlin! How in the bloody hell was taking the time to work out Cedric Diggory's dick-print-landmark not a clue for you?!"

Harry's eyes widened and the heat rushed to his face at the realization. He wanted to melt into the floor but Draco was doing that thing where he bit his lip and his eyes sparkled as he tried his hardest not to laugh and it just made Harry want to laugh out loud. And so he did. And then so did Draco and it was the most beautiful sound. Harry smiled endearingly.

"I really like it when you laugh."

Draco smiled ruefully.

"Harry, while I appreciate--"

What Draco appreciated, Harry did not know because they were interrupted by the sound of someone coming up the front steps.

_"I'm not sure if my roommate's home,"_ came Zabini's voice from right outside.

Harry and Draco both froze, wide-eyed like deer caught in headlights. It sounded like someone was pushed up against the door and they could practically hear the snogging.

_"I really couldn't care less-- that's what silencing charms are made for,"_ came an oddly familiar, though muffled (presumably by Zabini's tongue), female voice.

Draco's jaw dropped in indignation. He grabbed Harry by the hand and hurriedly led him to his bedroom, closing the door shut right as the front door opened.

* * *

_"Muffliato!_ " Draco said, pointing his wand at the door. "I do _not_ want to hear that."

Harry shook his head vehemently in agreement and they both laughed. It took him a moment to realize that he was alone with Draco Malfoy in his bedroom and he was hit with a sudden wave of shyness. He hadn't even begun to wrap his head around the whole _gay sex_ thing yet but he'd practically just asked Draco for a one night stand.

Draco, perhaps sensing his nervousness, took Harry's hand in his again and led him to the bed. He climbed gracefully atop the fluffy bedding, pulling Harry along with him.

Harry toed off his shoes and then lied on his side facing Draco, smiling nervously as he stared back into smoky, grey eyes. Draco rolled them after a beat and laughed.

"Harry, are you not breathing?"

_Oh_. He exhaled a long breath that he didn't realize he was holding which made Draco laugh harder.

"Relax, Harry. We're not going to have sex."

"We're not?" Harry couldn't tell whether he felt relieved or disappointed.

Draco shook his head. "It really wouldn't be fair to you. And besides, you're not ready."

Harry's brows shot up. "Not ready? Is it really that different from sex with a girl?" Sure, body angles would be different but, essentially...

Draco chuckled. "That's you assuming that you'd be on top."

" _Oh!_ " Harry's lips lingered in that _O_ shape while he processed that alternate possibility.

Draco leaned in closer and grey eyes darkened as he stared intently into green.

"Harry, if we were to have sex, and we only got to have one go at it, then it would be my every intention to make sure that you never, ever forget it." Harry felt goosebumps rise on his arms and his cock thicken. "I don't care what holes you've be in before or would be in after me, but I _would_ be the first person to stretch you open and fill you so completely that you _begged_ me to let you cum."

Harry's cock twitched and he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly very dry.

"But _that_ would just not be fair to you, considering the circumstances," he continued, matter-of-factly.

Harry rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, willing his breathing to even out. He hadn't even considered it but _fuck!_ that sounded hot! He whimpered softly.

"I guess--" He was surprised that his voice was raspy and he had to clear his throat. "I guess it _would_ make it hard to see you every day at work after the fact and pretend like you didn't... do that... huh?"

"Well......." Harry turned to see Draco grimace guiltily.

"What is it?"

"Well... Seeing me at work will no longer be a problem..." He smiled ruefully. "I quit."

Harry paled.

"And I'm moving to New York. The day after the wedding."

He felt like he was falling into nothingness.

"Why didn't you tell me this yesterday?"

Draco held his eye. "I didn't know. I decided all of this this morning and officially owled in my resignation this afternoon."

"Was this... Was this because of me? Because of last night?"

"Well... partly." Harry drew back, feeling wounded. "Not _because_ of you, per se, but partly because I think, if I'm being honest, you are my favorite part of the job. Seeing you, competing with you, dreaming about the far off chance that maybe one day we'll be this hilarious yet intimidating odd couple of a partner duo..." he rolled his eyes. "Borgin and Ollivander were awful reminders of the fact that this job willbe nothing but constant reminders of everything nasty in my past; the whole Astoria thing was beyond embarrassing; and there is nothing that I will ever do that would ever be good enough for Robards. Yesterday just solidified that you are the only rewarding thing I get out of that job and the thought of seeing you everyday and having to pretend that I don't care after already letting everything out of the bag last night _..._ " He shook his head remorsefully. _"_ Surely that would be more torturous than joyful."

Harry had to admit, it did all make sense, but what if Draco were one of his favorite parts of the job, too?

"What are you going to do, now?"

"Well, Blaise has started an investment banking company and needs someone to do some international work. Investing is something I already do quietly with organizations I believe in--" His ears turned pink and Harry smiled thinking about his donations. "--and I'm actually quite good at it. The best part is that I can be myself without people giving a damn so long as I'm making them money and it could be a completely fresh start for Astoria and I."

Harry couldn't help the frown at ' _Astoria_ _and I'_. He tried to push any thoughts of that crazy woman out of his head.

"So, New York?"

"Yes, I'm going to start off in New York for the first year and see if I can get in good with MACUSA and then eventually might go to Melbourne or New Zealand, depending on how well we're doing." He actually seemed excited.

"Draco... that sounds brilliant," he said and meant it, though his voice betrayed his sadness. 

He watched Draco's guards go up as the blonde flipped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, carefully avoiding Harry's gaze.

"Sorry I couldn't be the Golden hero _you_ wanted me to be." Harry was confused by the sudden bite in his voice.

"What?" He furrowed his brow, bemused. "Draco, what are you on about?"

His mind drifted back to the diner.

"Draco... did you think that you had to redeem yourself to _me_? Is that why you chose to be an Auror?"

"No..." Draco said obstinately.

There was a long pause before the blonde huffed and reluctantly turned back onto his side to face Harry.

"Potter..." His brow furrowed and he sighed after a beat. "I just don't get why you would say those things about me at my trial when they weren't true."

Harry looked up and to the side as he thought back to that day. Thoughts of Draco looking frail and hopeless still made his heart ache. Harry hadn't said much, just that it had taken bravery to defy his family and undermine Voldemort's plans by saving his life and that he thought Draco was placed in an impossible situation as a 16 year old. All of which was true. He looked back at Draco, perplexed. 

"I wasn't brave, I just lied to my father... Had the situation been reversed, and you were in my position while I was captured and wandless, even as established enemies you probably would've risked your life, wands blazing to _fight_ for what was right. _You_ were brave."

Harry unconsciously reached out to grab his hand and rubbed pale knuckles soothingly as he spoke. Draco looked baffled by the touch but didn't pull away.

"Draco, do you expect me to only think it counts if you're literally fighting?"

Draco gave him a wry look that all but shouted: " _Well, yeah."_

"Draco, didn't I already tell you that I don't need your hand, I just need your brain?" He smiled remembering the exchange from yesterday. Draco smiled wanly, too. "You lied to your father instead of going all rogue Gryffindor for the same reasons that you apparated instead of shooting in that simulation yesterday and the same reason you donated all that money to the center anonymously instead of publicly." Harry knew that Draco could've used the whole thing as a publicity stunt in search of public redemption. Who wouldn't in his position? But Harry respected that he'd avoided the controversy and media circus that would've distracted from truly helping the kids. It was _strategic_.

Draco's mouth dropped open.

"You knew?!" he asked incredulously. 

Harry rolled his eyes and then smirked smugly. "I'm a pretty good Auror, you know. That means I connect some pretty interesting dots... Like the fact that ' _Santa'_ is a benevolent man who helps the kids in more ways than just handing out toys."

Draco's resulting smile was breathtaking in its shyness. He shook his head and looked up at Harry through blonde lashes.

"Well, that certainly explains some things, Potter. When you started going out of your way to be _nice_ to me, I thought you were off your rocker. I mean, I _know_ I'm fit but..." He laughed and so did Harry.

"Well, you are pretty damn fit... And I happen to find the quietly strategic and disruptive type not only brave, but also, incredibly sexy." Draco smiled lasciviously and Harry felt the heat rise to his cheeks as the heat increased between them. 

Draco rested his forehead on Harry's and proceeded to wrap his arms around his waist, gently pulling them closer.

"Thanks, Harry," he said, nuzzling his nose against Harry's.

Harry's heart warmed and his breathing hitched as soft lips brushed against his. Lust quickly pooled in his groin as he leaned into the kiss and it turned into something firmer and more sure than what they'd shared last night.

It felt so different from what he knew: Where Ginny had been soft and supple, Draco was angular and cut, lean muscles. Everything felt a little harder, including the cock now pressed against his thigh, and yet, somehow, it all felt _right_!

Draco's tongue swept at Harry's bottom lip and he parted them to give him entry. He couldn't help the moan that escaped as Draco's tongue expertly explored his mouth and he dared to do the same and he was surprised to find that the man tasted sweet like treacle tart. His cock twitched and he was just about to ask if maybe they should seriously rethink the whole "no sex" thing when the fireplace in the far corner of the room came to life with bright green flames. Draco quickly broke apart. 

" _Shite!_ " he said as he panicked and wandlessly buried Harry under a pile of pillows. Harry wanted to protest but the voice that followed made him instinctively reach for his wand!

" _Draco_!" Lucius snarled. "I don't know what could _possibly_ be so important that you would deem it couth to be almost 20 minutes late for the dress robe fitting _for your own wedding_ ,but if you are not here within the next 5 minutes then you are disinherited!" 

"Father. Please send my apologies to Madam Malkin. I'm a bit under the weather," he said, sitting up and angling his body to make sure Harry was out of view to the swirling head in the fireplace. 

Lucius scoffed indignantly. 

"Draco, I don't care if you have the worst case of dragon pox this side of Scotland! _Get here, now!_ " he hissed and the green flames died. 

Draco removed a pillow from the pile and stared down at Harry apologetically.

In that moment, Harry couldn't explain why his heart hurt so much. It wasn't like he didn't know about all this wedding stuff or as if Draco hadn't warned him that it was all a bad idea. And it was his own bloody fault for barging in here with no regard at all for what Draco might have going on. Rationally, he knew all of this. So why, then, did he have the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry?

He fought back the lump forming in his throat and hurriedly stood to put on his shoes.

Draco stood, too. "I'm sorry about that, Harry..." he said worriedly.

"It's alright. Not your fault," he said, avoiding eye contact as he made to leave.

"Harry, wait--"

He paused with his hand on the door handle but didn't look back.

"Good luck with your marriage, Malfoy."

He made it all the way to the front steps before the tears spilt from his eyes as he disapparated.


	11. Dragons

"Blimey, Harry! You weren't kidding when you said you had a lot going on this week!"

Harry was laid on the plush, velvet chaise in Healer Bubblykicks' office, having just spent the past 15 minutes catching her up to speed. The witch's eyes had gone wide with shock at several points throughout his story and, at one point, she had looked totally gobsmacked. All the while her quill scribbled rapidly into her note pad.

When Ginny had first suggested he go to a mind healer, he thought it'd be some stuffy old bloke or, with a name like Bubblykicks, some coddling, old biddy. Charlie had recommended her as someone who'd done great healing work with some of the Dragon trainers he knew so he guessed he shouldn't have been surprised when he walked into their first appointment to find the silver-haired witch sitting with her dragon hide boots kicked up on her desk.

He liked that she was usually blunt and to the point. It turned out that Beth Bubblykicks was, herself, a former dragon tamer. When he told her that he didn't think anyone could possibly understand, she'd explained to him that most dragon trainers were really just lost souls trying to find themselves or run from something and it made him think that, just maybe, she might get it.

"I've been a mess since Wednesday. I was distracted at work all yesterday. Today I almost lost my eyebrows to a fire breathing chicken -- it would've been worse had Ron not made a point of not letting me die while I struggled to pull my head out of my arse... And the worst part is, I keep going back and forth between wanting to reach out to him and wishing I'd forget all about the pointy git, altogether."

"So... what _do_ you want to do?"

"Well, I know you're probably dying to tell me what Ron and Hermione did: that I need to leave it alone."

"Ha!" she barked. "What's the bloody point of that, Harry? You're just going to do what you want regardless. The question is just what _do_ you want to do and is it worth it? Can you live with it?" She raised a brow.

He thought about it for a long moment.

"Well... what I reeeally want to do is shag Draco Malfoy." He fought his blush and Bubblykicks just shot him a wry smile and sipped her tea. "Ron says that most pure blood marriages have a bonding ceremony so it's not like I could have anything more than that... But, I mean, if I really am accepting that I'm bent and I want to explore it, it seems stupid not to do that with someone that I care about and feel safe with, while I can... But could I be ok on the other side of that? I don't know..."

"And what does not ok look like, Harry?"

"You know..." He blanched. "I'll be sad..."

"Oh yea, you'd be sad big time, I'm guessing. You'll probably go through that whole grief process, yet again." She nodded and Harry swallowed hard at the thought of it. "You've dealt with a lot of big sadness, Harry, do you think this one's going to be the one that undoes you?"

"Maybe not... I've had a lot of big losses in my life and, yes, I've been a little fucked up but still ok, you know?"

"You've had a lot of big losses _and_ all of them have been sudden. No preparation, no coming to terms with it, no goodbyes... No control."

Harry's mouth went dry and he blinked back tears as he thought about his parents, Dumbledore, Cedric, Sirius, Hedwig, Dobby, Fred, Remus, and Tonks... All taken away from him within a blink of an eye. Would it have made a difference if he had been able to say goodbye? If he'd had even a moment to prepare himself for death's possibility?

Regardless, he had survived it. Each instance may have left him slightly broken but never destroyed beyond repair. Would it make a difference now if he were actually able to say goodbye on _his_ terms with Draco?

He had some things to think about...

* * *

Saturday morning found Harry sat on the floor with a full glitter beard while little fingers braided his hair.

"--and then the Little Witch That Could lived happily ever after," he concluded to a chorus of joyous cheers and applause.

"Again, Harry, again!" cried a little witch in a purple dress with white tights and yellow polka dots.

"Sorry, Isabela. Maybe next week but, right now, it's cleanup time!"

There were groans from the little group of preschoolers as they dispersed, some of whom he knew were off to make the colorful room an even bigger mess than it already was. And, right on cue, he screwed up his eyes as the room was filled with the sound of hundreds of Legos pouring out of the Lego bucket. He shook his head, silently thanking Merlin for cleaning charms.

"I've got it, Harry!" said Melissa, one of his favorite volunteers at the center. He nodded his appreciations and, waving his wand to make the glitter and braids and bows disappear, went to make sure the pet pygmy puffs were fed.

He usually volunteered at the center on Saturdays. He loved working with the little ones and they kept him so busy that it left him with very little room for brooding -- which he was particularly grateful for this week. Bubblykicks had given him a lot to think about but he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do about the whole Draco Malfoy situation. He could barely sleep last night and -- _his stomach growled --_ he hadn't had much luck eating either.

"I think I'd better get me some lunch, too, Peter Piper," he said to the pink pygmy puff who was chowing down on a handful of Lucky Charms.

He was taken by surprise when enthusiastic little arms wrapped around his legs. Harry's heart warmed, as it always did, when he looked down to see the excited little face gazing up at him under a shock of electric blue hair. He crouched down to give Teddy a big squeeze of a hug before he scooped him up in his arms, his godson squirming in a fit of giggles.

"Hello, little boy. Did you have fun today?"

"Yah! I caught a dwagon!" he said proudly.

He had been doing arts and crafts with Luna who had gotten really good at enchanting origami beasts.

"You did??"

Teddy nodded enthusiastically. Harry's smile waned as his mind wandered to a certain Slytherin.

"You know, Teddy... I caught a dragon, too." Teddy looked back with big, shocked eyes. "Mine is going to fly away soon, though. Did you hold on to yours tight or did it fly away?"

"It flew away!" Teddy pouted.

"It did??" he gasped. "But was it still worth it?"

"Yah!" Teddy's smile was so sincere and sweet that Harry couldn't help but return it.

"Hmmm... That's good to know, buddy," he said as he summoned Teddy's things and headed to the front of the room where Andromeda was already waiting.

"Ready to go, boys?" she asked, prepared to fuss over Harry just as much as she was Teddy. He smiled back at her lovingly.

Between the Weasleys, his Hogwarts friends, and the Order, Harry had built his own family over the years long after his family was ripped away from him. He loved all of them dearly, but the little family of misfits and orphans that was he, Andromeda, and Teddy just felt different and so much more important. He and Andromeda had really become close friends in their mission to provide Teddy the best life possible.

"Yep, I think so. But how about lunch on me before you and Teddy head off to his playdate with Victore?"

* * *

They had just left the center when Harry spotted a shock of white-blonde hair nearby.

"Draco?" he said without thinking. 

The blonde head turned irritatedly in his direction and then froze.

"Potter!" he breathed, mesmerized. His eyes landed on Andromeda a moment later and Harry saw a glimpse of panic that made him wonder if Draco had made the mistake of thinking he'd spotted a ghost like so many others did when they encountered the woman who looked so much like her psychopathic, late sister. She smiled her wide, kindly smile and he watched the fear abate. "An-Andromeda?" Draco finally managed to get out.

"Well, I'll be! Teddy, who is this man? Do you know him?" she asked of the little boy who buried his head against Harry's chest and shook his head in response. "Merlin, the last time I saw you, you weren't much bigger than this one!" She nodded at Teddy. "I would say congrats on the wedding but I'm much more a jump ship and follow your heart type of girl, myself." She looked between them knowingly and winked. Harry and Draco both flushed and Harry had to wonder, again, just how many people in his life had figured out that he was bent as fuck for Draco Malfoy.

Harry glanced at Draco who was now fidgeting with his hands awkwardly, clearly not sure what to do with himself.

"Hmm..." He couldn't help but notice the Black family resemblance as he looked between him and his godson. "Teddy, have you met your cousin, Draco?" He angled his body so that Teddy faced Draco. Teddy laid his head on Harry's shoulder, shyly, but his hair turned white blonde. Draco gasped.

"Hi, Teddy." Draco waved nervously.

Harry was surprised when the typically shy kid stretched out his arms in a bid for Draco to hold him. Draco looked taken aback but he reached out to let the little boy clamber into his arms, all the same, softening as Teddy settled on his hip and pulled out his toy snitch from the pocket of his overalls to share with Draco. 

"Oh, are you going to be a seeker? Like your godfather and I?"

Teddy nodded and Draco smiled that breathtaking smile.

Harry's heart melted and then clinched as he took in the sight before him and a completely unhelpful, impossible, painfully implausible thought started to form, unbidden.

"Oh, hello! What a cute family!" He turned to see Isabela's mother, Margherita, a muggle woman whose half-blood husband was killed in the war, getting out of her car. "Harry is this your better half?"

His face blazed and he turned to see Draco's baffled expression as she reached out a hand to shake the hand not holding Teddy tightly against his hip. He took it, perplexed.

"It's so nice to meet Teddy's other dad! You two make a lovely couple, by the way!"

"Don't they?" Andromeda chimed in with mirth in her eyes.

They both turned to each other, wide-eyed and speechless.

"Oh no, Margherita --" Harry finally got out.

"Isabela Martinez, if you don't put that down right now! ¡Ay dios mio! Excuse me, Harry," she said as she hurried off to try to stop the girl from floating Genevieve's toy owl into a tree.

Draco looked flabbergasted. "What in the-- Wait..." His eyes widened impossibly larger in disbelief. "Harry, can muggle men have babies?!"

Harry shared an incredulous look with Andromeda and laughed.

"No, Draco!" he managed to get out between laughs. "They either adopt or get surrogates-- a woman who agrees to carry the child for them," he clarified when Draco looked even more bemused.

"Oh." Draco's pale cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

"So Harry tells me you really were the secret Santa?" Andromeda broke through the awkwardness. Draco nodded nervously. "Mystery solved. Harry had been going on and on for years, convinced it was you. Now, maybe he'll finally shut up about it."

Draco caught Harry's eye and smiled, warmly. He shook his head solemnly as he returned his gaze to his estranged aunt.

"Really, it was the very least I could do..." He hung his head and they watched as Teddy hugged him tighter.

"Isn't that something?" Andromeda turned to Harry. "It's like he just senses he's family... Anyways, Draco, darling-- while I appreciate the thought, the kid doesn't need 600 galleon gifts, you're going to spoil him rotten!"

He raised an incredulous brow. "So? What's wrong with that?"

Harry snickered and Andromeda crossed her arms, making Draco quell.

"He's 3! No, dear, if you really want to be there for Teddy then he needs family. How about you just stop by for Christmas instead of getting him luxury toddler gifts?" She shook her head exasperatedly but there was a smile playing on her lips.

Draco stared back, stunned.

"You'd-- You'd want me in your home?"

She shrugged. "If Harry says you're alright then you're alright. It's just the two of us, we could use more family."

"I honestly don't really know what to say..."

"Draco." They turned to see Narcissa standing a short distance away. "We really must go."

Andromeda glared at her. "Narcissa," she challenged with a brow arched to kill. 

Harry and Draco looked between the two sisters, now in a tense, silent standoff. 

Narcissa finally conceded by nodding in her direction. "Draco, let's go."

Draco gave Harry a rueful smile and handed Teddy back to him. 

"It was lovely to meet you, Aunt Andromeda." He bowed towards Andromeda, whose ice melted to be replaced by surprise and then warmth. Narcissa sucked her teeth but didn't comment. 

"Goodbye, Teddy." Draco waved goodbye and Harry's sweet boy did the same. "I'll see you again." Harry's heart clinched when he looked up from Teddy and held Harry's eye meaningfully. Harry could've sworn he winked but it happened so smoothly and quickly that surely his mind had to be playing tricks on him. 

Draco and Narcissa disapparated on the spot and Harry turned to face Andromeda who was watching him with a raised eyebrow. 

"What?" he asked, innocently. 

"Are you going to do something about all that tension?"

His mouth dropped open, incredulously. "Andromeda!"

"What? I'm just saying, The Most Noble House of Black has historically been known as an excellent lay." Harry's eyes went wide and he covered Teddy's ears, pretending to be scandalized. She simply shrugged and walked off casually towards the restaurant. 

" _Slytherins_." He shook his head and followed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers! I hope that you are enjoying and just wanted to take a moment to let you know that you are all on my mind in these uncertain times. Hope that you are all safe, well, and that all the fanfiction out there might bring you some joy :-).
> 
> Next update to come Sunday when we'll see how Draco's taking all of this.


	12. Basilisk in the Room

"-- _and_ the Bulgarian Minister for Magic has officially confirmed his attendance." Lucius smirked proudly as they walked along the rows of white roses.

"Lovely, dear. Draco, isn't that wonderful? Draco??"

"Hmm?" Draco was stirred from his thoughts to find father scowling at him and mother looking peeved. "Oh, yes, wonderful."

Draco hadn't been listening to a word they'd said since they had insisted that he join them to give his input on some asinine wedding detail that he couldn't care less about. He was too distracted. 

He had been a mess ever since the green eyed menace had blown into (and, subsequently, stormed out of) his life. It was like some sort of beautiful, yet deadly, cyclone had torn his life apart. And then there was what happened earlier...

Running into Potter and his estranged Aunt had opened Draco's mind to an alternate reality that had been kept from him and, now that he'd had a glimpse of what could have been, he felt slighted. What would it have been like if Andromeda had been a part of his life all along? To have a fun, cool aunt who was friends with Harry Potter instead of a batshit crazy one. Would he have already been allowed to be a part of that picture, there for Christmas dinners with the 3 of them, if she had?

Mother had yet to even acknowledged the encounter with her sister, which was actually quite strange. Usually, she'd at least go on a rant about how someone had wronged her or remind Draco that they were better than the likes of such and so but, here: silence.

The sound of magically enchanted shears snipping, madly, nearby snapped him back to the reality at hand.

" _Ugh_. Must we desecrate all that is good in this godforsaken place?" he bemoaned.

Narcissa reached out and intertwined her fingers with Draco's.

"Must you be so theatrical?" She smiled, snarkily.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but relax minutely as she rubbed her thumb along his.

He frowned as he looked out around them at the state of mother's garden. It was usually his favorite place in his childhood home -- the one part of the manor that still felt untouched by all of the... _ugliness_ from years past. The hedges and shrubs, tamed into perfectly geometric rows or intricately sculpted into spheres and animals, always reminded him of peace and order and calm. Now, it was teeming with bustling witches and wizards preparing it for the ceremony now only a week away. He couldn't help but feel annoyance on top of his building nerves.

"We wouldn't even have to have it here if my future in-laws were not liars and thieves," he said, turning his gaze to Astoria, Daphne, and their mother off in the distance as they excitedly oversaw the decorations. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. To make up for the Greengrass' lack of funds and the sheer madness of the time crunch, his parents had decided to just host the wedding, here, at the manor. "Isn't that case enough for me not to have to go through with this?" He argued.

"I know that the events of the past week were rather... unsavory..." Lucius shivered in contempt. "But, fortunately, no one has to know the gritty details."

Draco scowled. Father hadn't even needed to pay off the neutral families to keep hush thanks to their stupid blood curse preventing them from talking about it. Thus, his newly bought reputation as a blossoming family man was still secure. While he certainly didn't wish that Astoria had _actually_ gotten arrested, a part of him _was_ miffed that it hadn't at least blown up enough for his parents to call off the wedding, altogether.

"Can't we... Can't we just put it on hold? See if we can't find a more suitable companion?"

Mother placed a hand on his shoulder. "Now, Draco, there's no getting cold feet now." 

"Your mother is right. There _will_ be a wedding here Saturday afternoon and, unless you readily have someone in mind, then, I'm afraid it will be that mousey little--"

"Darling..." Narcissa reached out to remind Lucius to mind his manners. Cover-ups or not, father was admittedly not the biggest fan of Astoria right now. That gave Draco an impossible idea...

"But... Anyone would be better!" He took a deep breath and turned to face them. He knew this would be risky and stupid and guaranteed to fail but... It was the only shot he had! "Even Harry Potter would be better!"

He watched as both of his parents froze and then exchanged looks.

"Draco --" Mother started.

"Yes, I bet if I married Harry Potter then that would do loads more for my reputation! And we could even still have an heir! Did you know that muggle men use something called a surrogate to have babies? Pansy could be my surrogate and that would handle all of that!" he finished his slightly breathless ramblings, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he waited for their response.

Father wore an icy mask and mother plastered on a wan smile. Draco realized too late that she was staring at a spot just over his left shoulder. He turned and was met with Astoria smiling at him wryly with crossed arms.

Narcissa cleared her throat. "What a very... _funny_ joke, dear."

"Our apologies, Astoria. Draco was just making a joke about the best and most absurd way to get disowned and disinherited. I find his humor to be a little base, but I do hope it will grow on you," Lucius said while holding Draco's eye, the intensity clear.

Draco sighed when they walked away leaving him alone with Astoria. 

"Stori."

"Draco." Astoria reached out and wrapped herself around his arm. He frowned down at her. "Are you still mad at me?"

"That depends, are you still being a dunce?"

She pushed him with her shoulder but laughed. She really was very pretty, if you were into girls, that is.

"I guess I deserve that. Buuut... I'm not a big enough dunce to believe that was joke. There's something going on between you and Potter, isn't there? Before you lie -- don't forget, I was there with you two in that dingy muggle restaurant! And even Pansy said you've been acting funny ever since you two worked together." She smirked smugly.

"Has it occurred to you that Pants may just be trying to make you sweat after you tried to _rob_ her family's home?" he asked, coolly.

She huffed, indignantly, but remained persistent. 

"Come off it, Draco, I'm not blind."

He crossed his arms defensively and rolled his eyes. "And if there _were_ something?"

Her eyes lit up and she bounced up and down on her toes.

"Oh, this is _rich_! The great Draco Malfoy, pining after _Harry Potter_!"

"Astoria, I am not above hexing you." He glared at her sideways.

"Oh, calm your tits," she teased and kissed him on the cheek. "If you _were_ secretly in love with Harry Potter, and there were a chance that he might be too, I'd say you've got one week before the ceremony..." She shrugged.

He looked at her in shock. Was she really suggesting what he thought she was? Maybe now was the time to finally bring up the basilisk in the room. Surely she knew he was queer but did she fully get it?

"Stori, you know I'm very gay, right?" he asked, hesitantly.

She rolled her eyes. "Again, I do have eyes and common sense. --Most times!" she corrected when he shot her a glare. 

"Well, how in the _fuck_ do you expect us to pull this off?"

"Well I expect the bond to fix that." She shrugged. 

" _Fix_ it?" he cut in sharply. 

"I'm just saying, there's a chance that..."

He shot her his deadliest raised brow. 

She raised her hands in surrender. 

"Ok, ok! Well, if not, I don't know -- love potions? Libido elixirs? I'll put my hair up in a bun like Potter's and draw on a scar. I don't know, we'll figure it out." His eyes widened in shock. "We only need have at least one son and then our parents will finally be happy! Imagine being free and in their good graces, Draco! And getting the hell away from here while we figure it out surely wont hurt... I'm sure New York will be lovely."

He nodded, although somehow not completely reassured. He was glad that his friend was trying to understand and be open but, realistically, was that enough to withstand a lifetime together?

She laughed again. "I can't believe you just asked your parents to marry Potter! I am _so_ glad I didn't miss that!"

"Sod off!" he groaned.

"No, dear, I'm holding that little gem against you forever and ever." She smirked impishly. "Serves you right to try to ditch me at the alter!"

He reached out to caress her face lovingly. 

"Oh, don't worry, love, I would've paid you a fortune to fuck off first." His lip twitched as he pretended to smile sweetly. 

"Mmm, I love it when you talk dirty to me." She smirked. "Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be somewhere off snogging the savior?"

He was just thinking up the best dry response when an owl post screech owl circled above them before landing at his feet. He bent to relieve it of its message, written in a hand writing that he probably shouldn't know but he had memorized by the time he was twelve.

_Draco,_

_I was wondering if you might like to join me to hang out at my flat? If you're not too busy, of course?_

_P.s., you can't apparate directly here and I'm not hooked up to the floo so it might be a bit of hike... Directions on the back. Hope you'll still come._

_HP_

Draco couldn't help the smile that overtook his face as his stomach filled with something fluttery. If he were alone in his room then, surely, he would've done a proper happy dance but, since he was in public and that was just undignified, he had to settle for a quick, discrete fist pump. 

He quickly summoned a quill and scribbled a response. 

"Thanks, Stori," he said, distractedly kissing her on the cheek and taking off at a trot, disapparating as soon as he could.

* * *

Draco apparated to the secluded backstreet and headed, on foot, in the direction that Harry had scrawled out for him. He was preoccupied with a million thoughts that made him both nervous and excited about his rendezvous with the Chosen One.

Draco didn't really know what he wanted or expected from any of this anymore, all he knew was that he'd never felt like this about anyone. What was hardest about it all was that he actually really cared about Potter and how he fared in this.

He wasn't used to seeing the Gryffindor prat look nervous or scared about _anything_! Yet, from the moment Draco'd stupidly unlocked Pandora's box at that muggle club, Harry had looked as terrified and unsure as he, himself, had felt on the inside. Draco couldn't tell if the fear was because the still 20-year-old was wrestling with his sexuality for the first time (Draco'd had his initial existential crises around that so long ago that it was hard to remember what it felt like) or if it was because Harry, too, was afraid of getting hurt when this all inevitably ended. Either way, this vulnerable side of Harry Potter elicited something in Draco that he very seldom felt. Something that was almost... _protective_.

In almost every relationship and friendship he could think of, Draco was used to either being taken care of or solely concerning himself with making sure that he took care of himself. Now, he found himself wanting to do whatever he could to not hurt Harry, or -- at the very least -- take care of him when he inevitably did. He didn't think he could stay away... yet, seeing the disappointment in Harry's eyes after father's firecall made Draco think that he might try just about anything to avoid that look on Harry's face again.

Though there were still _some_ exceptions...

" _Oh, there is no bloody way in hell!_ "

Draco blinked up at the big red and white circle above a flight of descending stairs that bore the words "Underground" and "Public Subway."


	13. Rhythm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the reason for the E rating 👀. If you've been reading thus far, then you know that I like to create visuals so you might not be surprised that the NSFW bits are very... vivid... If you would really rather not read all the juicy parts and would rather just take a wild guess at what happens, I've used ********** to indicate where you should stop reading.

_"Pull it together, Harry!"_ he urged himself, pausing his frenzied attempt to make his flat look spotless to take a nice, deep _, calming_ breath. He exhaled slowly. _"It's only Draco Malfoy! No need to be a spazz..."_

Twelve minutes. Only twelve minutes had gone by since he had received Draco's hasty response to his invitation:

_I would love to. I'll be there, shortly._

_~DM_

Harry paled as he stared at the perfectly scrawled handwriting for the hundredth time in twelve minutes.

He had felt so compelled to send the invitation after their run-in this afternoon (for which he blamed Teddy and his overwhelming cuteness, entirely. Seriously, what mortal being could resist the pining that comes with watching Draco Malfoy hold a toddler?!) -- but now he was kicking himself for his stupid Gryffindorian impulses as his mind ran through the list of things that could go wrong.

The nightmarish eventualities at play in his head ranged the gamut from Draco being unimpressed by his tiny flat to them reverting back to full fledged, teenage fighting or, worse: Harry finding himself _crying,_ of all things, like some lovesick teenage schoolgirl. He was still mortified by his reaction to Wednesday's... _incident_... and absolutely, positively did _not_ want that again.

What he did want? He still didn't know exactly -- at least not when he thought about Bubblykicks' question: _"What can you live with?"_ He was sure he was meant to figure that out _before_ he invited the bloke over though...

He was forced from his thoughts when a very distinct _**POP**_ echoed abruptly from the street below, quickly followed by the screams of teenage girls.

"Shite!" he said, picking up a final lone sock from the floor and tossing it into the hamper before he bolted out of the front door.

Harry barreled down the stairs and threw open the main door only to find Draco Malfoy, in full wizard's robes, standing in the middle of his bustling residential street surrounded by a gaggle of school-aged girls!

The stupid git looked like he was trying to calculate exactly how he should obliviate them all!

Thinking fast on his feet, Harry scurried down the front steps and broke out into an impromptu round of enthusiastic applause, feeling incredibly stupid as he drew the attention of the shocked girls and a befuddled Draco.

"Isn't he great?! It's the Great Ranzuli!" He laughed nervously. "The greatest magician I've ever seen! If you'd like to see his next show, he'll be on in the square at 6 o'clock!"

The girls smiled and there were some _"Ooh"_ s as they carried on about their day.

Harry crossed his arms and fixed the blonde prat with an incredulous stare. Draco, pale cheeks tinged with pink, straightened haughtily but flashed him a wry, apologetic smile that almost made the whole fiasco worth it. 

"You just couldn't follow directions, could you?" Harry asked, wryly. "I told you _not_ to apparate directly because there's too much foot traffic."

He probably would've given him a harder time, really, if Draco hadn't looked so great with his pouty, pink lips or had his own heart not started doing the tango at him actually being there.

"Potter, did you seriously think that I would take _public transportation_? Why couldn't I just floo?" He rolled his eyes as Harry led him to his second story walk-up.

"Because I'm not hooked up to the floo here. It would mess with the electronics."

"Potter, that makes no--"

Draco's jaw dropped as he stepped into the small flat, wide-eyes scouring the sitting room full of cheap IKEA furniture and bright, electric overhead lights.

* * *

Harry hadn't given much thought to how much muggle technology he'd accumulated until he realized just how many things caught Draco's eye: landline, answering machine, lamps, clocks, tv, dvd player, CD player, and his newest addition: the red and white, egg-shaped Macintosh computer.

"Merlin, Harry..." Draco's voice sounded almost awed as he explored. "Are you living completely muggle?"

Harry shrugged as he watched Draco tour the tiny flat, mesmerized. "Well, I have my house at Grimmauld place -- I mostly stay there because it's obviously more convenient to use magic and for travel... but I like to come here whenever I need a break from the wizarding world," he added, somewhat sheepishly. 

Here he could just be the bloke in 2B and not the savior or the _Boy Who Lived Again_ or whatever folks called him these days. Also, no floo meant no one popping in unannounced which was a regular occurrence at number 12.

Draco had made his way through the kitchen and pressed all the buttons on the microwave and was now opening and closing the refrigerator, watching the little light go on and off.

Harry chuckled. Draco looked so out of place in his posh robes, surrounded by muggle technology. Harry thought it a true testament to how far the bloke had come since they were teenagers that he seemed intrigued by it all instead of abhorred.

"C'mon, I know something you'd like," he said, leading Draco to the sitting room.

"Is that a telly vision?" Draco cocked his head, fascinated as Harry turned on the 30 inch television tube with the remote and turned the channel to MTV.

"Ooh! Is that the Spice Girls?!" he asked, excitedly, when he recognized the tune, plopping down on the sofa to watch the _Wanna Be_ video.

"Yep, and I ordered pizza," Harry said, pointing to the box on the coffee table. Draco eyed it sceptically when he handed him a slice but he took it without protest. Harry chuckled when he nibbled a bit and the look on his face turned from mistrustful to pleased.

A beat passed before Draco unglued his eyes from Scary Spice to turn a curious brow his way.

" _Oh_!" Harry jumped and the heat rushed to his face as he realized that he was just standing there. _Staring_. Draco chuckled and pat the seat next to him.

Harry cautiously sat just close enough on the couch that they could feel each other shift without actually touching, the proximity already enough to set Harry's every nerve on fire!

"Are you ok, Harry?" Draco asked, his calm voice laced with amusement.

"Mm-hmm," Harry hummed breathlessly.

Draco smiled, toothily, but shook his head and changed the subject.

"So, tell me, why is it that this muggle band is so much better than _The Weird Sisters_?"

"I don't know but you know they're not together anymore? They officially split last November."

" _What_?!" Draco screwed up his face in outrage. "How _dare_ they?!"

* * *

Harry could say with absolute certainty that neither his nor Draco's 16-year-old selves would have ever fathomed that one day they'd be sharing laughs and learning obscure facts about the other over beer (wine for Draco) and muggle TV. But, alas, here they sat. 

Draco listened with rapt attention as Harry told him all about the muggle auror-of-sorts, James Bond; and, when they watched a countdown of top 90s pop, Draco discovered that he had a penchant for classics by Madonna and American queens like Janet Jackson and Mariah Carey (which Harry thought was fitting since Draco _was_ the biggest Diva he knew).

It was funny, really. Harry found Draco's budding love of muggle pop culture so hilariously at odds with everything he'd previously known about his stuffy, prejudiced-against-all-things-muggle former rival. And, surprisingly, it seemed that the more upbeat the song or dance, the happier the Draco. It was strangely endearing to see all of his guards come down as if, at least for the night, Draco had forgotten that he was supposed to be an aristocratic, arrogant, prat.

They were having _fun_! And, all the while, Harry thought he was doing a fairly good job of not letting his wayward thoughts get away from him -- that is, he had been until the point when Draco, fascinated by all the muggle pop dancing, actually stood to follow along with parts of the choreography on the screen. Harry found himself hopelessly captivated by how carefree and joyful Draco looked as he danced, arms thrown wide and hips swaying freely, rhythmically.

"Draco, why can you move like that?" It came out too breathy and his ears turned red at the sound of it. 

Draco smirked, smugly, when he caught the way Harry's eyes stayed glued to his hips.

"I have excellent rhythm, Harry," he said as he sat back down beside him on the sofa. He leaned closer and added in a low, teasing voice: "In case you were wondering."

Harry felt a shiver run through him but he was determined to keep his eyes on the screen as Madonna danced around a mansion full of men in tuxedos. Draco chuckled and Harry finally dared to look at him.

"What?" he asked.

Draco shrugged.

"You're still so easy to rile up," he delighted, his smirk turning into a grin.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You always did know just how to press my buttons."

Harry didn't catch the insinuation until Draco's grin turned into something more lascivious. His cheeks warmed.

Draco chuckled again and then rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Harry. How is it that you can defeat a Dark Lord but a few innuendos can make you forget to breathe?"

Harry tried to force himself to loosen up and breathe normally but that only seemed to make him more self-conscious.

"You're precious, Harry," Draco said as he finally reached out and pulled so that Harry found himself lying on his back with his head in Draco's lap. "Relax. Now why in Salazar's name are you so nervous?"

"I'm just... It's nothing, Draco."

"Are you worried that I'm expecting us to shag? I told you I wasn't..." He looked concerned as he peered down at him.

"No, that's not the part that scares me. It's just... " He shook his head. "I don't know what I was expecting but tonight has been great and, somewhat surprisingly _,_ you've been all perfect and charming and..."

What was the point of trying to explain? Draco was going to move on with his new wife and go someplace where he'd never have to think about any of this ever again. Never have to think about _him_ ever again. Of course he wasn't worried about getting attached.

Draco sighed and began absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair. And as if he could read his mind: "It's ok, I'm scared, too."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. He gazed up, sceptically, into rueful grey eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. You terrify me, Potter. And I'm afraid you're going to drive me absolutely bloody mental by the time this is over." His voice was soft and he shook his head wearily. "I'm not used to caring about people. Not like this... How do you think you got me to eat greasy cheese on hard bread without protesting?"

Harry scoffed in feigned indignation. "Because it was _good_ greasy cheese on hard bread?"

Draco laughed. "It was, but that's besides the point! I was _starving_ because I couldn't eat for nearly three days because you, you stupid wanker, walked out, all upset, and called me _Malfoy_."

"But I always call you Malfoy..." he said, confused.

Draco shook his head. "It's different now and you know it. And this bubble bursts in a week and you'll go back to calling me Malfoy and, for everyone else, it will be completely unremarkable. For us, however, it will forever be a reminder of what almost was but couldn't be."

Harry laughed, morosely. "I thought I was worried that things were going to go badly tonight but I think I was secretly hoping that they _would_ just so it'd make things easier."

Draco shook his head. "I, for one, am glad they're going well. I'll shed my tears next week. Today I'm just grateful for these moments. Tonight really has been precious to me, Harry. I'll never forget it."

Harry's heart warmed as he stared back into warm, grey eyes but there was still something niggling at the back of his mind that made him feel solemn.

"Draco... What if it hurts less for you? What if the bonding ceremony makes you fall madly in love with your new wife and makes every one else feel... insignificant?"

Draco worried his lip as he contemplated the possibility. It was clear that he wished he could reassure him that it wouldn't be the case but...

"Harry..." he swallowed, dryly. Harry's breath caught when he appeared to blink back unshed tears. "I'm sorry, I really don't know what will happen."

Harry contemplated this. Draco no longer caring about him after all of this would surely feel worse than a carefully aimed _Crucio_ to the heart, but neither of them knew for sure what to expect. What he did know was that, right now, he had this beautiful man right here with him and, for whatever reason, they both loved each other much too deeply than was wise and despite everything that said that this shouldn't be possible.

He stared intently into silver eyes and decided on the spot:

"Catching the dragon is worth it even if it flies away." He said, quietly. Determinedly.

Draco smiled shyly and Harry reached up to pull him closer. Luckily, Draco took the hint and bent to capture Harry's lips with his own. Harry finally felt himself begin to melt and let go as his tongue twined with Draco's. As he lost himself the intoxicating scent of citrus and Draco, he couldn't help but wonder why in Merlin's name he had been fighting this all night when this moment made him happier than anything else in the world?

He sat up and pushed Draco so that he laid back, Harry crawling atop him so that he could get a better angle. He leaned in for another kiss, instinctively sliding his thigh between Draco's and worshipping the resulting little intake of air and Draco's cock growing against his thigh.

"Harry..." Draco got out between kisses as Harry's hand made its way underneath his shirt and began exploring the spans of skin there. "This isn't going to end well if you're worried about getting attached..."

" _Or_ it could end very, very well," Harry countered as he kissed and ran his tongue along Draco's jawline, relishing how different yet _right_ the feel of the scruff there felt. He made his way to his long, elegant neck and Draco tilted his head to give him better access, moaning as he sucked on the sensitive skin there. What a beautiful sound, Harry thought.

He pulled apart and took in the sight of Draco Malfoy beneath him, hair mussed, lips red and swollen... He needed more!

"Should we find a bed?" he asked, breathlessly. 

Draco looked hesitant though his eyes burned with passion. Finally, he nodded and Harry scrambled off of him, taking Draco's hand in his as he hurriedly lead him to his bedroom.

* * *

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Harry clambered eagerly into the bed but Draco had paused by the doorway. Harry looked back, confused, only to find the prat staring aghast at the decor.

"Really, Potter? You just _had_ to go with Gryffindor red?" he teased as he took in the curtains and bedding and rug.

Harry fought his smile. "Draco, that's what you're on about right now? Really, _right now_?"

Draco chuckled lightly and climbed into the red bed.

"You're lucky you're so fit," he said before kissing him hungrily. He pulled at the hem of Harry's t-shirt, quickly lifting it overhead and revealing Harry's taut, muscular frame. Harry fumbled with the buttons on Draco's shirt but it wasn't working fast enough!

"Hey!" Draco gasped.

"Oh, bugger..." Harry said when he realized that he'd accidentally, wandlessly vanished it.

Draco looked down at his bare chest and laughed. "I actually really quite liked that shirt!"

"Doesn't matter, you didn't need it anyways," he grinned, mischievously. Draco tackled him and pinned him to the mattress.

"How should I make you pay for that?" he asked as he bent down to twirl his tongue around Harry's nipple before nipping gently with his teeth. The sensation made Harry mewl and his cock strained against his jeans.

"I don't know but that _'filling me with your cock and making me beg to cum'_ plan sounds like a good start."

He watched the conflict at war behind Draco's eyes. "Are you sure, Harry?"

"Yes, very. Will you get on with it?" he teased, trying not to betray his nerves.

Draco's raspy chuckle reverberated in his ear as he ducked his head to suck on Harry's earlobe and the sensitive skin beneath it. Harry writhed and moaned underneath him, arching up against his thigh, hoping for friction.

"Eager, Potter?" he teased as he reached down to stroke Harry's bulge through the denim. Draco's lips captured the moan that escaped Harry's while his fingers worked to free him. The idea of Draco Malfoy touching him at all was already too much to process but, when those same slender fingers made their way around Harry's cock whilst Draco's tongue relentlessly continued its ministrations, Harry was sure he would come undone.

"Un-un-un, not yet," Draco admonished, voice low and rough with want. "If we're going to do this, then I want to take my time with you. I want to be your firsts, Harry. That means I've got a lot to show you and that I need to cum twice. The first time quickly and in your pretty little mouth." Harry gasped but Draco kissed his lips softly. He let his lips linger there as he spoke again. "Does that sound alright, Harry?"

Harry swallowed. He never thought he'd be turned on by the thought of another man's cock in his mouth and especially not... what Draco was suggesting... But somehow, even though it sounded down right filthy to his own ears, the thought of having Draco Malfoy _inside_ of him, in _every_ way, was thrilling! He nodded and Draco kissed him chastely, teasingly.

"Take off your pants," he directed as he shimmied out of his own, revealing a beautifully long, pink, thick cock that flushed against his pale abdomen. Harry did as he was told before taking it in his hand, relishing the weight and feel of it as he stroked and cherishing the way it made Draco's breathing hitch, his grey eyes dark with lust. He leaned in to kiss Harry one more time and then made to stand, taking Harry's hand and leading him so that he was sat at the edge of the bed while he stood before him, pulsing cock at mouth level. Harry didn't know why, but it was intimidating. He eyed it, hesitantly, and Draco bent to plant a kiss in messy black hair, his bun having come half loose.

"You don't have to do anything, Harry. It's ok if you don't want to and it's ok if you think you might want to and change your mind," he said in a low, reassuring voice. Harry nodded contemplatively but he reached out to grab ahold of Draco, all the same. He wanted this.

He planted a shy kiss on the tip to get over the hump. It gave him the courage to try open mouth kisses along the shaft and then to finally let his tongue explore the perfect cock in front of him, experimentally lapping up the precum that had already beaded there. Harry looked up to see dark eyes watching him, patiently, mouth slightly agape as if Draco were holding his breath in anticipation. At last, he let his lips wrap fully around his cock, carefully minding his teeth as he took him in further. Draco groaned and slowly thrust deeper, filling Harry's mouth until he touched the back of his throat. He was big and Harry had to work to relax his throat to try and take him in even further. He inhaled the intoxicating musky scent that was Draco as the fine, blonde hair there tickled his nose. The scent, the velvety smooth feel of the hard cock on his tongue, and the exquisite sounds coming out of Draco's mouth as he thrust back and forth were almost enough to push Harry over the edge, alone. 

Long, titillating minutes went by before Draco sped up and threw his head back as Harry gripped his thighs tighter to brace himself. At last, Draco stilled but his cock continued to pulse in spurts. _Oh_! Harry's eyes went wide as his mouth slowly filled up with stream after stream of something warm, thick, and salty that tasted faintly of bleach.

There was a brief, awkward moment when Draco pulled away and Harry wasn't sure what to do. Now, Ginny usually swallowed when she did this for him but...

"Come on, you can swallow, brave Gryffindor." Draco smirked and bent to kiss him on the lips, licking his own, teasingly, after. Harry accepted the challenge, tilting his head back as the gooey spunk slid to the back of his throat.

"Merlin, that was a lot of cum!" He screwed up his face and stuck out his tongue when it finally went down.

"Yep, and you took it like a man," Draco smiled as he leaned in and kissed him languidly. He pulled away and kissed him on the forehead, leaving Harry feeling oddly giddy and accomplished.

"Now, let me take care of you," he said, pushing Harry back and climbing back into the bed. "Harry, you've never had _anything_ inside you? Not even a finger while you wanked?"

Harry shook his head. People did that?

"Is it going to hurt?"

Draco paused, thoughtfully.

"No, not if I prepare you well enough... And if you can relax and stop being uptight for once in your life, I suppose," he added.

Harry swallowed, thickly. "Great, no pressure."

Draco kissed him sweetly on the lips. "I won't hurt you. How about you get on all fours?"

Harry moved to the middle of the bed and did as instructed, resting his head on his forearms. Draco moved behind him, leaving him feeling incredibly exposed with his arse up in the air. Long moments went by without anything happening and Harry's face flamed when he looked back to see Draco studying him, reverently.

"Do you know how beautiful a sight this is?" he said, finally reaching out and massaging Harry's bum. He let one finger slide teasingly down his crack before gently tickling Harry's balls. Harry took a deep, steadying breath, feeling incredibly aroused though extremely nervous.

Draco got up and grabbed something from his pile of clothes. Harry realized that it was his wand when he heard him whisper two incantations and felt a tingling sensation.

"Cleansing and protection charms," he clarified before he began massaging again, this time with both hands and gently pulling his cheeks apart.

Harry felt goosebumps as Draco hovered over him and placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the small of his back. He let his eyelids flutter shut as Draco continued kneading his bum with sure, calming hands and occasionally peppered him with tender kisses, going lower and alternating from right cheek to left. When Draco spread his cheeks wider and placed a kiss directly over his hole, his eyes snapped open.

"Woah! Draco!"

He could feel Draco smirk against his arse as he did it again, this time gently sucking on the skin there. Harry inhaled sharply. He wanted to shout at Draco that this was wrong! It was too much, too depraved! But then his wet tongue began to circle the tight ring of muscles _there_ and all thoughts of stopping him went out the window as Harry's eyes rolled back into his head.

"Try to relax, Harry," he said before continuing his ministrations on Harry's arsehole.

Harry took a deep breath and focused on relaxing his bum as the tip of Draco's tongue tried to gain entry. Slowly, Draco's tongue began to stretch him. He was incredibly hard and tried reaching a hand around his front to stroke his cock but he received a quick swat on his arse.

"Not yet," Draco said briefly before sticking his tongue back in, deeper this time, now properly fucking him with it. Harry no longer had any control over the sounds coming from his mouth and his hips moved of their own accord, causing him to grind back on Draco's tongue. He almost cried when Draco pulled out and reached for his wand.

"Patience," he said as he cast the lubrication spell.

Harry inhaled sharply again as he felt one of Draco's long, slick finger slide inside of him.

"Is that ok?" he asked.

"Yes," he panted. That was fine, especially after the tongue. Harry was starting to wonder what the big fuss was about until Draco added a second finger. Harry screwed up his eyes and tensed when he felt the burn.

"Shh-shh-shh. It's ok," Draco reassured as he massaged him soothingly with the hand that wasn't inside him. "Breathe and try to relax."

They stayed like that for long moments while Harry adjusted to the foreign fingers inside him.

"I'm going to move them now. It might burn a little bit but if you feel more pain than pleasure, tell me to stop."

"Ok." Harry braced himself.

Draco began to move his fingers and Harry was surprised when it felt good. Really good! It did burn when he started working him open, stretching him with a scissoring motion, but it still felt more pleasurable than anything.

"I'm going to add one more to get you ready for me, Harry."

The burn increased as the third finger made its way inside, the pressure making Harry feel incredibly full. Then Draco hooked his fingers as he began to move in and out and Harry cried out!

"Are you ok?!" Draco asked, worriedly.

"No! I mean, yes! Please, don't stop!" he pleaded.

Draco chuckled but began moving again as Harry pushed back against him.

"I think you just might be ready for the real thing," he said as he removed his fingers.

Harry rolled over onto his back, face flushed and sweaty and wearing an exhilarated smile. He sat up and kissed Draco, sweetly, pulling him down on top of him as he laid back down.

"I want to see you," he said, sheepishly.

Draco smiled back at him, sweetly, and took a moment to gaze into Harry's eyes. His were dark with lust but Harry also saw something softer and warm reflected back at him in the pools of silver-grey.

"Ok," Draco finally said. "Wait-- this will help!" he said, placing a pillow underneath Harry's hips.

Harry pulled his knees to his chest, his own engorged cock flushed against his stomach, and braced himself as Draco cast another lubrication charm and lined his cock up with his hole. Harry gasped as he slowly began to ease himself in. Draco felt bigger than the fingers! Pain seared through him.

Draco stilled and leaned in to kiss Harry on the forehead. "It's ok. Relax your bum."

"Draco, there's no way that's going to fit in there!"

Draco smiled a knowing smirk and Harry's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. "I did _not_ mean that as a challenge!"

"Too late, challenge accepted!" He smiled lasciviously, lowering his forearms on either side of Harry's head and kissing him fervently.

Harry's moan turned into a cry as Draco captured his lip with his teeth and tugged, just as his cock sunk a little deeper into him.

"See," he said while starting to lap at his neck. "You're relaxing!"

Harry did feel like he melted every time Draco's tongue touched him so maybe he was on to something. It took a few more firm but gentle thrusts until Draco was fully buried in him. Harry held his breath, afraid to move.

"You ok?"

"Yea, I just need a moment," he squeaked out.

Draco stilled and placed his forehead on Harry's while he adjusted to the cock inside him. Draco nuzzled his nose against Harry's.

"I cannot believe..." He shook his head and took a steadying breath before kissing Harry tenderly. His eyes looked pained and full of meaning as he leaned in to place another gentle kiss on his lips, as if trying desperately to communicate something that he dare not say aloud in this moment. Harry didn't need him to say it because he felt it, too. He felt the lump rise in his throat and couldn't stop the two tears that escaped when he blinked. Draco softly kissed the tracks they left as they rolled down his cheeks.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, I want you to move." He _needed_ Draco to make love to him, at least one time before it was too late.

Draco moved his hips experimentally. It burned still, but not as bad anymore. Harry nodded for Draco to continue.

Draco fell into a rhythm as he rocked his hips back and forth slowly, his breath hitching as he found his stride. Harry moaned as the burn started to dissipate and turn into pleasure, his cock twitching between them. He was just considering trying to see if Draco would let him reach for his cock yet when Draco switched the angle and he felt _that_ feeling again.

"Oh, DRACO!" he cried out.

Draco's eyes lit up. "Right there?" He hit the spot again.

" _Yes_!" Harry hissed his pleasure.

"Say it again!" He did it again.

"Yes!"

"Nuh-uh. You know what I want to hear." He bit his lip and stared intently into Harry's eyes as he struck the spot again.

"Oh my god! Yes, DRACO!" He screamed his name right as his cock hit that wonderful, magical place, yet again. "Draco, Draco, Draco..." he sung as Draco really picked up the pace.

Draco's lips made their way, hungrily, to his and the moans coming from his mouth as he sped up made Harry's rock hard cock impossibly harder.

"Touch yourself, now!" Draco commanded.

Harry didn't need to be told twice! He was already so close he didn't think he could take it! He stroked himself once... twice... thrice... And then all of his muscles were tensing and he saw white as he came, _hard_ , on he and Draco's stomach and chest. He felt his arse clench around Draco's cock and it was enough to send Draco over the edge, as well. He rested his sweat covered forehead on Harry's as he stilled and came inside of him.

Draco kissed him one more time and then pulled out, slowly. He rolled over onto his back, spent, and pulled Harry onto his chest.

"You ok?" he asked as he planted a kiss in Harry's soft, black hair. He reached for his wand and Harry felt the stickiness between them disappear.

Harry nodded against his chest, already drifting off into blissful post coital sleep.

"Draco, I love you."

Draco's arms wrapped tighter around him and Harry heard him swallow thickly before saying:

"I love you more, Harry."


	14. Choices

The weekend they'd shared had been lovely and perfect, but bittersweet. They'd holed themselves up in Harry's little muggle sanctuary all of Sunday only to be hit with reality come Monday morning. They'd woken up with Harry running late for work and Draco neglecting yet another wedding responsibility and, when it came time to go their separate ways, they left off with an awkward _"See you later,"_ that just felt... _flat_ considering the enormity of it all. 

Draco felt himself floating, barely there in the days to come and teetering on an impossible decision.

He wasn't a man of moral high grounds nor was he a "follow your heart" type of bloke. His life had never been about himself, but rather about upholding, honoring, and protecting his family. That was his main life's goal.

Never would he have imagined that the one principle he valued most in the world would be in such discord with a profound new desire to _not_ hurt Harry Potter.

The two needs came head to head in dramatic fashion on Tuesday afternoon as Draco sat, distrait, across from mother and Astoria in mother's sunroom as the two witches fawned over rich, colorful samples of cake for the wedding. 

Decadent smells of chocolate and buttercream filled the air as the house elves brought out an array of sweets that, on any other day, might have delighted Draco's sweet tooth. Instead, he couldn't help but feel queasy at the burgeoning bubble of panic threatening to burst from his chest. 

Could he really go through with this? Two weeks ago, he would have been perfectly content to play house with Astoria. The thought of them trading snide remarks in a New York penthouse while trying to figure out how to raise a small child like some sort of cliche American sitcom was not a bad one. But that was because he had never considered more... But now that he knew more existed?

And then what about Harry?

_"Draco, I love you."_

The declaration still reverberated in his head, the four words comprising, perhaps, the sweetest song he'd ever heard. How tragic for them to also serve as a beautiful requiem.

Draco thought himself selfish to have enjoyed them. A part of him really wished he hadn't said it -- prayed it wasn't true because, if it were, then once again it seemed that Potter had drawn the short straw and, this time, by falling for the death eater. Didn't Draco already owe him the world?

He was already trying not to choke on his guilt when a barn owl flew through the open doors and zoomed past them, dropping something green into Draco's lap and abruptly flying away. 

"What in the?" Astoria started. "Draco, is that a howler?"

Draco looked down, aghast, at the dark green and gold folded parchment that was now starting to smoke. 

He didn't even have time to ponder who in the bloody hell would be sending him a howler before he was forced to throw it from his lap just seconds before it exploded!

Draco shrunk as the room filled with a shrill voice:

"MALFOY! YOU STUPID, _STUPID_ FUCKING PRICK! IS THIS A GAME TO YOU?!! HOW _DARE_ YOU PLAY WITH HIS HEART?!! LIKE HE HASN'T HAD ENOUGH BLOODY PEOPLE TO COME INTO AND OUT OF HIS LIFE! WHEN HE BREAKS, ARE YOU GOING TO BE THERE TO PICK UP THE PIECES?!!"

And just like that, the mysterious voice died as the letter turned to ash. _Draco_ felt ashen. He was pretty sure his heart stopped beating altogether and he had no hope for it ever resuming as he numbly lifted his eyes from the spot to see Astoria's jaw on the ground and mother staring at him stoically. He blinked at them dumbly; speechless. 

"Astoria, dear, can you excuse us?" Mother said, not taking her scorching gaze off of Draco. 

Astoria's chair scraped the floor as she hastily fled the room.

He met mother's piercing grey eyes, so much like his own, with sadness. He knew she wouldn't ask him to explain. She had a habit of already knowing things where Draco was concerned, even if she never spoke upon them. 

They had a bond that he couldn't have with father. She'd always loved him fiercely, but during the dreadful times, they were all they had to keep each other going when father was imprisoned or the house was overrun with the Dark Lord or a sea of Death Eaters. That fierce love was matched on both ends with a fierce determination to keep each other safe. 

He shook his head and swallowed hard. "Mother, I..."

She reached across the small table to place a hand on his.

"Draco, would you like to know why I do not speak of my sister?"

He was taken aback by the abrupt direction of the conversation. "Erhm... Because she was a blood traitor?"

She shook her head solemnly, her eyes trained on her son. 

"Andromeda was my favorite sister." A flicker of pain flashed in her eyes at the admittance but she continued. "We were closer in age than Bellatrix and I but she still prided me as her baby sister. She was always kinder and gentler. Bella would kill for me but Andy would let me cry on her shoulder or crawl into her bed at night when I had a nightmare, well into our teens." She smiled sadly.

"I knew my sister. I knew that she was losing her grasp on our values and that her views were not evolving with our family's." She shook her head. "But what I never imagined was that she might be willing to sacrifice us all because of it. You see, she was erased from our tree because she was a blood traitor. She was erased from my heart because she turned her back on our family. On _me._ "

There was anguish in her eyes and the intent was clear as she stared into Draco's. His heart beat was back but now it was stuck in his throat.

"Draco, our decisions might not always be... the best... but we make them as a family. _For_ the family. I know that you aren't enthused about this union but we fought to keep this family together -- please, don't do anything to destroy it."

He swallowed thickly and nodded slowly.

* * *

"Nice work, Potter!"

"Thank you, sir," he said, wiping blood off of his bottom lip and closing the door to the holding cell on a brooding street hustler they'd caught using real magic to swindle muggles out of thousands of pounds in Trafalgar Square.

Harry had been in rare form this week, pouring himself into his work and making an unprecedented 12 arrests during what was only his second week of field assignments. _The Daily Prophet_ had even picked up the tagline: " _Harry Potter, Auror Extraordinaire!"_ \-- much to his chagrin.

"You ok, mate?" asked Ron as Robards headed back to his office and they ambled towards the lifts, ready to call it a day.

"Yea, it was just a lucky sucker punch."

"Well, you might have avoided it if you hadn't said that thing about his mum!" Ron laughed. "That wandless capture was _brilliant,_ though, mate!"

Harry smirked, smugly. "Thanks."

"You've been doing a lot of that lately. The wandless stuff."

"Yea, I have no idea why it's just been sort of workingin the past couple of weeks." He shrugged, baffled. 

"I bet Dumbledore would've said it was love magic or some crud like that," Ron laughed. 

Harry paused briefly, eyes going wide, but then he quickly shook his head and kept walking towards the lifts.

"But I mean... how _are_ you? You know... with things?" Ron asked awkwardly as they climbed aboard a mercifully empty lift. 

Harry quirked a brow at him. Ron wasn't usually the one to probe him on emotions.

"I'm fine, Ron."

"Are you sure, Harry? You went kind of full tilt this week..."

"Yea, I was just doing my job. Trying to be the best that I can be and all that."

Ron nodded. "And it has nothing to do with the fact that Malfoy is getting married tomorrow? Because Hermione said that this weekend was probably going to be tough for you..."

Harry paled. He had been trying _not_ to think about Draco.

They had left off with that awkward _"See you later,"_ both too scared to be the one to admit that they didn't know when _later_ might be or just how different things might feel when that time came. By the time Wednesday came and went with no word from Draco, Harry had to force himself to accept that he wasn't going to see him again before the wedding. 

So much for goodbyes. But he couldn't help but think that that was all a bunch of rubbish, anyways. Would saying goodbye in what otherwise felt like the most perfect relationship really make him feel better? He couldn't imagine it would. 

All of this played in his mind as he blinked back, dumbly, at Ron. 

He hadn't even bothered to tell Ron or Hermione about any of it since he'd left Hermione's office last Wednesday. As far as they knew, Harry had been a wreck because he was a sappy, confused bloke with a unrequited crush -- which wasn't that far off from the truth, honestly, so he figured he'd spare them the parts that would give them cause to worry that he might lose it. Besides, he didn't want to talk about it. It felt private and tragic and his and Draco's. How could they understand? How could anyone?

"Ron, I'm fine." He was! _Really_! The situation was what it was and all he could do was accept it. Simple. "It was just a crush that couldn't be. There's no need for us to talk about--"

"Malfoy!" Ron said as the lift doors opened on the atrium level.

"Yes, exactly."

"No, I mean, _Malfoy_ ," he said again, this time pointing to the blonde man standing by the fountain chatting with a woman that Harry was pretty sure worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He already looked all the part of the aristocratic businessman, his tailored robes a stark difference from the brown ones he'd worn here just 10 days ago. 

Harry froze as burning grey eyes found his and held his gaze. The witch continued to talk animatedly at Draco's side but he looked enraptured by the sight of Harry.

"Hey, are you getting off or not, mate?" asked a grumpy wizard at the front of the queue waiting to board the lift.

"Oh, sorry!" he said, jumping out of his daze and exiting the lift behind Ron.

"Why do you think Malfoy's here?"

"I have no idea..." he said breathlessly, unable to take his eyes off of the gorgeous man before him.

Draco bowed his head to excuse himself, the little witch from the IMC frowning slightly as he sauntered off towards Harry.

"Auror Extraordinaire, huh?" He smirked when he reached him.

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled. "You know you can't place too much stock in the _Prophet_."

"Oh, I don't know... I can name quite a few things that you do _extraordinarily_ well." His eyes glinted and Harry felt the heat rush to his cheeks.

"Harry?" Ron's face contorted in a bizarre mixture of confusion and disgust.

The flush spread to his neck and he rubbed sheepishly at it.

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" He realized his mistake as soon as it'd left his mouth. Draco's smile dropped and was replaced with something icy and protective.

"I had to handle something for the new business before I leave on Sunday," he said, examining his nails cooly and trying to appear nonchalant.

"Oh." Harry crossed his arms protectively. Was this it? Was it starting already?

Harry wondered if Draco could somehow see the fissure forming in his heart because his ice melted to be replaced with something shy and remorseful.

"But I hoped I'd run into you," he said, sheepishly, his face turning pink and his gaze purposely avoiding Ron. "I wanted to show you something. Do you have time?"

"Sure -- Ron, go ahead. I'll see you later."

"Harry..." He shot Draco a furtive glance. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Ron. I'm fine. I'll be over for dinner at the Burrow on Sunday night," he reassured.

* * *

Draco apparated them to a lush hillside that looked out over a little town that Harry didn't recognize.

"Where are we?" he asked, peering out past an old church steeple to a village of thatched cottages. 

"Wiltshire. The manor is just there." He pointed to the east and Harry saw the outline of the manor and its extensive grounds. "I come here when I need to breath or just to watch the sunset. Come."

Draco reached out to take his hand in his, leading them to sit side-by-side under a large beech tree.

The view was breathtaking. It was still a few hours before sunset but the sun had already begun its slow travel westward over the little town. Harry felt touched that Draco would share someplace that was clearly special to him, but he couldn't ignore the unavoidable. 

"Draco, shouldn't you be busy with wedding stuff? The ceremony is in what?" Harry did the math. "A little less than 18 hours?"

Draco continued to stare solemnly for a long moment before he finally turned to meet Harry's gaze.

"No. I asked Astoria to handle whatever it is that comes up." He shook his head. He worried his lip like he always did when he was contemplating something difficult. Harry reached out to cusp his chin in his hand and squeezed his cheeks gently to coax it free. 

"What is it, Draco?"

"I visited Andromeda today."

"Oh?" he asked, surprised. 

Draco nodded. A beat passed before he spoke again:

"I needed to know how she made the choice to give up her family for love."

Harry's mouth fell open. Surely he wasn't suggesting... 

He furrowed his brow. "Draco... I have all kinds of thoughts about your family but, as someone who didn't have one, I would never want you to feel like you had to give yours up just to be with me."

Draco smiled ruefully. 

"That's exactly what she said you'd probably say." He leaned in and kissed Harry chastely. "She's a very sage woman, you know."

Harry smiled. "Oh, yes, I know. What sage advice did she have for _you_?"

"Well... When I told her that my main concern was of doing whatever I could not to hurt you, she kindly informed me that I... _erh-hmm_ \--" He cleared his throat and made finger quotes. "'Sounded like a narcissistic prick for assuming that I alone can protect your feelings and there are already a shite load of people who have made life changing decisions on the behalf of Harry Potter without ever consulting Harry Potter and that _maybe_ I shouldn't be that stupid'. Consider giving you a choice in all of this and what not..." He smiled ruefully. 

Harry's eyes went wide with panic as thoughts of being forced to stay with the Dursleys, Umbridge at Hogwarts, and practically every decision Dumbledore had ever made flashed through his mind! All examples of someone's bright idea to " _protect_ " him. 

He shook his head, silently thanking _Merlin_ for Andromeda! 

"Very sage advice, indeed." 

"Harry..." He looked down at his fancy shoes and swallowed thickly before returning his gaze. "What would you like to do?"

Harry was taken aback. "What would I like? Draco, what are my options?"

"Well, the way I see it, we really only have two: We say our goodbyes tonight... or I give it all up and we can be together."

He tried to mask his trepidation but Harry saw straight through it. 

"Draco, are you really putting that second one on the table? For real?"

He took a deep breath and nodded solemnly.

Harry stared back into burning grey eyes and took in the enormity of what was being offered. Draco thought he might lose his family and his inheritance and the respect that his name still brought him in plenty of high class circles -- all of which, had meant the entire world to Draco...

"Andromeda explained that she had no more choice in whether she stayed or left the family than she did in falling in love. She fell in love and had been naive enough to hope that her family's love for her was infinite enough that they could accept her still, as she had tried to accept them despite their views. Instead, she was banished and forbidden to talk to her sisters." Draco shook his head and Harry could see the conflict in his eyes.

"Harry, despite _every, single thing_ we've been through, I still love my parents. Dearly. But I can't help that I love you, too. What it means that me falling in love with someone who is not in _their_ plan might actually have the power to make them _stop_ loving me..." He swallowed thickly. "Harry, I don't know what that means. But I do know that I would never turn my backs on them and if they choose to do so, then that's _their_ choice."

Harry's heart clenched. Draco was trying to be so brave.

"Draco... Are you prepared for them to make that choice?"

Draco shook his head and fought back tears. "No, but we don't have any time!"

Harry swallowed thickly. 

"Thank you for giving me the choice, Draco." He reached out to take his hand and then looked out over the little town and shook his head. "I think that might just be one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given." 

He raised Draco's hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss where their knuckles intertwined. For some reason, he thought back to that long walk through the Forbidden Forest with the resurrection stone in hand. 

"I think tonight should be goodbye," he said decisively. 

Draco frantically searched his eyes. "Harry..."

Harry kissed him sweetly and then nodded. He had made his choice and, for once in his life, he didn't feel bulldozed. He knew he could make sacrifices, it just felt better when he got to decide to make them.

"Draco, I love you, but just because we had two passionate weeks together, who's to say that we won't be back to driving each other mad in two weeks? It would be different if you had been contemplating severing ties with your family beforehand, but to do it just because we ran out of time? I don't think it makes sense to risk losing everything just to see if maybe we could've won in overtime."

"What an awful analogy, Potter." Draco rolled his eyes and wiped away a tear. "You know you always catch the snitch, of course we'd win in overtime."

Harry wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly, planting kisses in soft blonde hair. 

"Are you saying you would've let me be our seeker? Is that your way of admitting I'm better than you?" he teased, brow raised. 

"No. Never," he said, petulantly, then playfully pushing him before capturing his lips in his.

The reality of the situation began to settle in as they pulled apart. And so did the sadness. 

"Draco... What if it hurts too much to interact after the soul-bond?" His heart clutched.

Harry couldn't escape the thought of seeing or speaking to Draco and it being apparent that all of _this_ , all that they had shared, suddenly meant nothing to him.

Draco's soft pink lips kissed his tenderly.

"I know, love," he said, sadly. "It wouldn't be fair to you. Which is why I thought you deserved a proper good-bye."

Harry thought he had prepared himself for this. He'd repeatedly told himself that it was over all week and he had accepted it. He had even just _chosen_ it! But, for some reason, actually hearing Draco say it felt like a lot like that 100 foot fall from his broom in third year. There was the same icy feeling in his chest, too, although this time there were no dementors needed to make him feel this despair. He couldn't stop the tears.

Draco pulled him to his chest and hugged him tight.

"Shh-shh-shh. It's ok, Harry. You'll be ok. I want you to move on, ok? You'll find someone who can love you in all of the ways you deserve to be loved and you'll have little green-eyed babies with messy hair who grow up to be great like their father and you'll forget all about me."

Harry shook his head. There was no way he'd ever forget about Draco.

When Harry finally calmed down, Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at the tree trunk. He carved the initials HP+DM into the bark and encased it with a heart.

"Don't worry, Harry. I will figure out ways to never let this or _us_ die in my mind, I wont forget," he promised, his eyes shining with sincerity. Harry smiled weakly. It wasn't that he was worried that he would forget, he was more so worried that he wouldn't be able to feel. If only he could think of a way to ensure that Draco could still _feel_ all of the things that made all of the memories special...

He kissed Draco, hard, hoping that if he could pour everything he felt into it then it would _have_ to stick with him.

Draco responded by kissing him back, just as passionately.

Harry didn't know about Draco, but he knew that he would _never_ forget that night. For years to come, he would recall the sweet nothings that meant everything whispered from Draco's lips to his ears and the tender, open mouth kisses they shared or the overwhelming combination of love, joy, and pleasure he felt as Draco Malfoy lowered himself onto him just as the sun began to set, the image of his bare, pale skin forever framed in beautiful hues of gold, purple, orange and crimson in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I made myself cry a little with that one :'(.
> 
> There's one chapter and an epilogue left to go for part 1! I might try to post them both on the same day if I can make myself write the epilogue by Wednesday (It's the one bit I didn't write yet but decided this needed it if I'm going to make you wait a little bit for part 2).
> 
> If you've never watched "Sisters of House Black - An Unofficial Fan Film" then you totally should! It's cannon in my head now when it comes to the Black sisters' story and shapes how I wrote them. Here's the link if you're interested or you can type it in YouTube: https://youtu.be/0hrcRtu45TU


	15. "Always." --Be My Baby

"Greg! Wands exist for a reason! --Hey! Be careful with that chandelier!"

"Well maybe if you'd get off your high horse and actually _help_ then you could have it done however the bloody fuck you want!" Blaise shouted back, sweaty and annoyed as he carefully stood on the bed trying to unscrew the chandelier. "Why on earth didn't you pack all this shite up earlier?"

"I don't know, Blaise, I guess I was a little bloody preoccupied!" he yelled. 

Draco was exhausted and bitchy. He was draped lazily across the arm chair near the picture window, still in his dress robes though they now lie open slovenly with his tie and collar loosened. He didn't think it was possible after living with a madman in his house for a year, but, he thought today might actually make the shortlist for one of the longest days of his life and he still had an 8am portkey to catch in the morning. His friends had come over to help him pack the last of his things but Blaise was the only one actually working since he'd hardly call the way Goyle was carelessly tossing things into the extendable trunk helpful and Pansy, Astoria, and Daphne were all busy picking through and cooing over the mountain of wedding gifts in the sitting room.

_"Oh, what a lovely antique vase!"_ He heard Astoria say from the other room. He simply rolled his eyes and closed them.

_"Like you need anymore antiques,"_ Pansy quipped. He smirked but left them to it while he drifted off into a shallow sleep.

_"Potter has a lot of nerve."_ Daphne's voice broke through the haze. _"Why'd he send a wedding gift but only address it to Draco?"_

Draco's eyes snapped open and he was immediately on his feet.

"Hey!" Daphne shouted indignantly as he snatched the red and gold box from her hands, posthaste. He went back into the bedroom and climbed atop the bed, sitting cross-legged and holding the box gingerly in his hands as if it were fragile and precious.

He felt the mattress compress on both sides of him as Pansy and Blaise climbed in eagerly on either side. Meanwhile, Greg's face screwed up in confusion where he stood, wheels trying their hardest to turn.

"Why would Potter--"

"Greg, Blaise: _Out_!"

"What?!" Blaise asked, jaw dropping indignantly. "How come Pansy gets to stay?!"

"Because Greg doesn't know what the bloody hell is going on and I'm pretty sure I have _you_ to blame for that Howler!" He shot a wry look towards Blaise, who had the good grace to look sheepish. 

"It's fine, Pansy will tell me later." He smirked as he climbed out and made to leave.

"I wouldn't dare!" She feigned appalled and Draco rolled his eyes. He didn't really care. In truth, he was more worried about a situation where whatever Harry sent might cause his emotions to get the better of him. He'd survived the day by carefully packing away the fact that he was giving up the love of his life and this would surely force him to face that heartbreaking reality.

"Come on, get on with it!" Pansy barked after another minute passed with him just staring at the box, apprehensively.

Draco took out his wand and cast locking and silencing charms at the door before carefully unwrapping it. He furrowed his brow, bemused as he held up a round, plastic thing connected to a bizarrely shaped head contraption by a wiry black string.

"What in the bloody hell is that?!" Pansy asked, just as thoroughly confused as he.

Draco tilted his head this way and that, hoping that something on the thing would give him a clue as to what in Salazar's name it was supposed to be. He pressed one of the strange buttons that had the words "Play/Pause" printed in tiny print and was surprised when music started coming out of the the head contraption. He held it to his ear and smiled widely when he recognized " _Holler"_ by the Spice Girls -- the song Draco had drunkenly sung to Harry that very first night! His chest felt full of something radiant and he desperately searched the rest of the box, his heart jumping when he found a note.

_Dear Draco,_

_Even though the bond has probably already made you forget about... your feelings for me... I hope that your love for muggle pop music prevails. I burnt you a CD that's a mix of some of your favorites, some that remind me of you, and some that I hope against hope might make you think of me fondly even if it's no longer in that way. Track number 6, for instance, might help you think of me if your bride ever does decide to put her hair up into that bun... _

_P.S., I wrote the names of all the songs on the CD in the player. Switch the little clasp on the front to open it if you want to see. You can skip around tracks or songs by pressing the "skip" buttons. Oh, and put the headphones on your ears, you prat._

_Love always,_

_Harry_

Draco felt his eyes begin to burn before the note was abruptly snatched out of his hands as Pansy examined it closely. He switched the little clasp on the front of the portable CD player and the lid lifted to reveal the silver disc spinning to a halt. He immediately recognized Harry's handwriting scrawled on it detailing which tracks contained various songs including some he already recognized as Spice Girls, Britney Spears, and Janet Jackson songs. He searched and found that song number 6 was one he'd never heard that read: _"#6 Would You Mind - Janet Jackson"_.

"Draco, is Potter right? Has the bond made you feel different? Ooh! Are you even still gay?!" Her eyes went wide with wonder as she peered up over the note. "Quick, when you think of post Hogwarts Neville Longbottom, does he do it for you?"

Draco shrugged and quickly averted his eyes, pretending to examine the CD astutely.

"Draco?" She fixed him with a discerning brow.

Shite. In 15 years, he still hadn't figured out how to keep a secret from Pansy Parkinson. She could read him better than almost anyone. 

"What did you _do,_ you guilty bastard?"

He sighed. He had planned to take this to his grave but if anyone could appreciate the duplicity...

"I _may_ have found a way around saying the official bonding vows." He winced.

She gasped in shock. "You sneaky, sneaky snake! How?!"

"Well... Apparently the officiant can be... quite _pliant_ for the right price." He shrugged and spun the CD on his finger distractedly. "A few choice changes might have been made. Just in little ways that my parents wouldn't notice, of course, like: _'I now pronounce you blonded for life'_ instead of 'bonded'."

Pansy shrieked and then keeled over in laughter.

"I'm not sure, but I may never be able to dye my hair now even if I wanted to." He laughed, too.

"Sweet Salazar!" she got out when she finally caught her breath. "Does Astoria know?"

He smiled ruefully and then raised his hands in surrender at the incredulous look she shot him.

"I'm going to tell her! Eventually..."

He hadn't yet worked out how to tell his new wife that he'd made such an enormous decision without her before their marriage even begun. 

_Like a narcissistic prick._

His aunt's words rang in his mind. But, hey, this was sort of her fault to begin with! She was the one who jokingly threw out that maybe the little tufty-haired wizard could be bought! She had said it with a wink and a smile but, now that it had actually worked, Draco had to wonder just how much of it really was a joke...

"Ooh! You've gone and done it now! Stori is _not_ going to be happy that you've doomed her with a lifetime of limp dick."

He rolled his eyes. 

"Pansy, I can guarantee you that nothing on me is ever _limp,_ " he said, haughtily. "Besides, it's not like I've never had sex with a woman before. It was fine."

"Draco, if you're talking about the Yule Ball, we were young, dumb, and tripping off mushrooms! And sex on shrooms is amazing so if the only adjective you can think of is ' _fine,_ ' then maybe that should tell you something."

"Well girl parts have a weird texture!" He blushed and Pansy burst into a new fit of giggles. 

Shite. Maybe Astoria liked mushrooms...

"Anyways, there was only a 50/50 chance that it would make us any more attracted to each other but a 100% chance that it would make sure that we were stuck together for life. On the very likely chance that it didn't ignite this fabled passion everyone seems to be hoping for, then I thought she deserved a way out at some point," he defended. He crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders, ruefully, his voice fading to a mere whisper. "And on the off chance that it did... I don't know, Pants. I just don't want to not be... well, _me_."

It was an ongoing journey, but Draco was just starting to feel proud of the fact that he was gay and he didn't want some twisted magic to inadvertently take that piece of him away just to live out whatever fantasy his parents had for him. He was willing to play the game but only if he could still be him.

"Oh, hunny." She took his hand in hers and laid her head on his shoulder. "And Potter?"

He sighed. The part of him that had prided himself on their rivalry was loath to admit it but: "I just don't want to feel numb when I think of him."

The past couple of weeks had gifted Draco so many moments that brought him joy to think about, even if they did now come with a pang of sadness. He now possessed a whole reservoir of memories that he'd never dreamed imaginable: memories of times when he'd made Harry Potter smile, or laugh, or call his name... or cum... The thought of taking away the pure, innate affection that came with those thoughts seemed disturbingly like being emotionally obliviated.

"But he's expecting that you will?"

"Yes. We didn't know what would happen after the bonding ceremony or how I'd feel so we decided not to reach out and just try to heal. But this is bloody brilliant!" He lifted up the CD.

The bond would've likely blunted the way he felt when he thought about Harry but not how he felt when he listened to music! A mix of songs that brought him joy or stirred up feelings of love and lost was incredibly clever and essentially ensured that those songs and those feelings would forever be associated with Harry.

"Pansy..." He looked at his friend as a new wave of hope threatened to bubble up. "Do you think I should let him know that I didn't take the vows?"

"For what reason, Draco? For all intents and purposes, you still just got married and are moving to the states... Wouldn't it be more humane to just let the bloke think you forgot so he could actually move on?"

His heart dropped as the last bit of hope was dashed. He nodded in agreement because, of course, she was right. He reached for the CD player to distract from the lump rising in his throat. He put on the headphones, replaced the CD, and played around with it until it skipped ahead to track number 6.

At first, he thought nothing of it as the sweet, light melody of Ms. Jackson's voice reached his ears. But then, he started paying attention to the lyrics and his jaw dropped.

His expression made Pansy reach out and snatch the headphones off of his ears. She only listened to one line before she quickly tossed them back, shaken.

"Huh, I didn't think Potter had it in him!" she said, somewhat appreciatively.

"Pansy, _out!_ " he shouted.

She simply laughed and made to leave the room.

"Draco's about to have a wank and would like to not be disturbed!" she announced loudly to the rest of his mates on her way out and he couldn't help but laugh. He looked at all the stuff still waiting to be packed and decided he'd have to come back to that one when he really did have the time to enjoy a good wank.

He sighed and got up to herd his friends back in to finish packing.

It wasn't until later that night, when most of his friends had gone and his new wife was snoring softly by his side, that he was able to listen to the CD in its entirety. It was an emotional rollercoaster. 

He couldn't help but smile through the tears that rolled freely down his cheeks as he listened to _"Always be my Baby"_ by Mariah Carey -- the last song on the disk. 

"Cocky bastard," he smirked. 

* * *

Harry spent most of Sunday morning on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and listlessly flipping through channels on the telly. His mind was numb and nothing seemed good enough to watch. The things he did get momentarily excited about were the things that reminded him of Draco. Ugh. Would he ever be able to watch MTV again?

He heard keys jingling outside of the door to his flat but didn't bother to move. Only three people, besides Draco, knew he had this place and only one had a key.

Ginny pushed the door open with her foot, arms full with two paper bags full of groceries, and still wearing her dark green and gold quidditch robes -- apparently fresh out of practice. She put the bags down on the threshold and stood with crossed arms and a crossed expression.

"Draco Malfoy? Really, Harry?"

He smiled back, wanly.

"Ron told you?" he asked as Ginny sat next to him on the couch and pulled out a tub of Harry's favorite ice cream from one of the bags and summoned two spoons from the kitchen.

"No," she said curtly as she passed him a spoon, giving him a sideways glance. "You weren't the only one galavanting around with Slytherins on this break."

Harry's jaw dropped as something clicked into place.

"That was _you_ with Zabini?!"

She smiled wryly and shrugged.

" _Ginny_!"

"Hey, you're one to talk! I wanted you to explore but I thought you'd go seek out that David Beckham bloke you're always on about, not go fool around with that _troll_."

She stabbed the ice cream with her spoon and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Ginny, you thought I could pull David Beckham?" he asked, finally hesitantly digging in to the ice cream --he didn't have much of an appetite but he did quite enjoy Rocky Road.

"Sure, why not?" She smiled smugly and he shook his head. What he had experienced with Draco had been intense passion but Ginny still had the ability to make him feel special during the times when he felt his worst. What that meant, he didn't know. Neither did he know where they stood or what either of them needed, but the fact that she could still show up for him at a time like this as his friend meant something. "How are you, Harry, really?"

"I've been better, but I'll be ok," he said, truthfully.

She sighed. "Now I've gotta deal with you getting over a broken heart from Draco Fucking Malfoy." She rolled her eyes. "Well, at least I know I've got one thing that he doesn't."

He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Built in pillows," she said as she pulled his head onto her bossom and took the clicker to turn to _Charmed_ , their favorite show to laugh at muggle interpretations of witchcraft and wizardry.

"Thanks, Gin," he said as he snuggled against her and reached for another spoonful of Rocky Road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging in this with me! There is still the epilogue which I had hoped to get done and out today as well but, surprisingly, my life has gotten even busier working from home and it looks like I'll have to wait until Sunday to post it. (Also, even though I have a whole part two to keep the story going I think I might hate goodbyes and endings just as much as Harry so I may be subconsciously drawing this out lol). Sorry for the suspense.
> 
> If you have your own thoughts of what pre-2001 pop songs Harry might've put on the mixtape I'd love to hear it! :-)


	16. Epilogue: 5 And a Half Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Draco's hair is long in part 2 :)

**5 And a Half Years Later:**

The young, blonde man looked out stoically, long plaited hair and dressing gown blowing gently in the morning breeze as twilight set in over Melbourne. He leaned over the glass balustrade of the rooftop terrace, hot tea nestled in his hands, as he reflected on the past 72 hours.

His unexpected business trip back home to England had been, by all accounts, a success. He'd managed to save Blaise's arse and potentially position Z&M International as _thee_ trusted global wizarding investment banking firm. Blaise was already ecstatically thinking about the next stage of their expansion and fantasizing about becoming the wizarding Barclay's when he left, but something wasn't sitting right with Draco and he couldn't put his finger on it...

He sighed. He bloody hated going back home to England. It had been two years since his last visit and, if Blaise's Bulgarian dialect wasn't so shitty that it left him in serious danger of accidentally insulting Minister Oblansk and blowing the whole thing, then he probably would have told his partner to figure the shite out on his own. Draco's charm, schmoozing, and, believe it or not, reputation had leant itself to a prosperous career in these past five years. Through his work and contributions, he'd managed to transform his disgraced name into one of respect. Now known as an international philanthropist, socialite, and financial genius, he'd even managed to make _Witch Weekly's_ "25 Under 25!" list last year. No amount of accolades, however, seemed to prevent him from being reduced to little more than a reformed teenage death eater and disappointing son whenever he returned home.

Mother's cold shoulder and father's condescending barbs about his divorce from Astoria were only part of the reason he avoided not-so-merry ol' England like the plague, however. The other, green-eyed reason was a little more complicated and had the potential to open up a much larger can of worms.

Draco had convinced himself that the odds of encountering the man during his short visit were slim to none, and even still, he'd mentally tried to run down the list of all his long forgotten evasive Auror maneuvers, _just_ in case. But, of course, he wasn't prepared when, as was his luck, Harry Potter walked into the dining room where they'd sat for their meeting with the Bulgarians with his wife, Ginevra, in tow.

_"Draco?"_

Draco's heart clutched now as he remembered the awe and warmth that carried the barely whispered name to his ears. _It was still there._

"Oh, there you are, Draco."

He started from his thoughts as a handsome, shirtless Aussie bloke sauntered towards him.

"For months I've been trying to take you to bed, now I finally get you there and you scurry away first chance you get?" He smirked and encased Draco in strong, muscular arms.

Draco shrugged out of the embrace and rolled his eyes but smiled back, wryly.

"Sebastian, please don't make me regret mixing business with pleasure," he warned with a pointed brow. "I just needed a distraction."

He had arrived back to Melbourne late last night only to find his favorite Australian investor in a _very_ generous mood. And as far as distractions went, he _was_ a pretty scrumptious one...

He sipped from his tea as he took in the sight of the fit, smooth talking wizard now leaning casually against the railing and beguiling him with a dazzling dimpled smile. He was in his mid-thirties though his brown hair and beard were already peppered with silver, making him look distinguished. He was a persistent bugger, but Draco didn't mind. He made good company in a foreign land and he was slowly wearing down his guards. Somehow he had turned their monthly meetings into weekly lunches and now...

"Well, I'm happy to be your distraction _any_ time," he teased, seductively.

Draco was just debating whether or not he wanted to temp the fates with a round two when an owl approached from the east carrying the latest issue of _The Daily Prophet_.

"Wait, let me just get some owl treats then you can distract me all you want," he said suggestively as he quickly relieved the owl of her post and turned to head back inside for treats. He stopped short, however, when he glanced down and caught sight of the moving picture on the front page.

The mug slipped from his hand and shattered on the ground.

"Draco? Draco, what is it?!"

Draco filled with dread as he looked down into somber green eyes as picture Harry was marched away by Robard, himself, his hands magically bound behind his back. He paled, panic-stricken as he read the headline:

**BREAKING NEWS!!! NEWLY APPOINTED HEAD AUROR AND SAVIOR OF THE WIZARDING WORLD, HARRY POTTER, ARRESTED AS THE PRIME SUSPECT IN WIFE AND HOLYHEAD HARPIES SWEETHEART, GINNY WEASLEY'S DISAPPEARANCE! (Rita Skeeter has the inside scoop on their tenuous relationship, pending divorce, and the big fight from earlier this week that sources believe might have made the savior finally snap!)**

"Crikey! Isn't that that hero bloke? Your former partner?"

"Technically, no..." he said snapping out of his daze, mind finally galvanizing and his eyes searching madly through the article. "This doesn't make sense..."

"Well, sometimes people can surprise you, mate." Sebastian shrugged. "Come on, put that down and let's go inside. You've had a shock, let's get you some more tea -- I know how you Brits like tea."

Draco frowned. He got that his friend was trying to help, but he didn't know Harry! He couldn't begin to comprehend how much the man had sacrificed, how much he was still willing to give... How much the world had taken from him... How much more he deserved! And the thought of Harry Potter, the man that, damnit, he still _loved_ with all of his heart! -- taking the fall for something so heinous was just... just...

He felt the magic building in his core and the patio furniture began to quake. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice even as he talked.

"Thank you for a lovely night, Sebastian. How about we connect in two weeks for our meeting with Benson? We've got mergers and acquisitions to discuss," he said, curtly.

The man twisted his lips wryly. He looked miffed but he eventually nodded and summoned his shirt and robes before disapparating without another word.

Draco exhaled an audible breath and then pulled up a seat at the nearest patio table.

He buried his nose in _The Prophet_ , continuing to scour the paper for something, _anything_ that might make this make sense!

He paused when he noticed the date of the alleged argument which was supposedly the last time that Ginny was seen.

Oh _... Oh!_

He stood abruptly, not caring when the chair was sent toppling backwards. He trotted back into the penthouse apartment and skidded to a halt in front of the large fireplace in his sitting room, heedlessly grabbing a handful of the green powder and flinging it into the fire. He plopped down in front of the hearth as soon as the flames turned green.

"Alexandra? Alexandra!" he called out.

A pretty brunette woman with ice blue eyes nearly jumped out of her seat, startled.

"Mr. Malfoy, sir --" she said, composing herself behind her desk.

"Alexandra, is Blaise at the London office?" he asked, frantically.

"No, sir. He's still in New Zealand for the rest of the week. Is there a problem?"

_Shite._ He raked his fingers through his hair.

"Alex, I need you to listen to me very carefully," he stressed and she nodded, wide-eyed and surprised by his fervor. "Book me the soonest possible direct portkey to London. I don't care about the time or the price, I just need it _today_."

"Today, sir? A same day portkey is going to be --"

He rolled his eyes. If she thought that was too much then she really wasn't going to like the next ask.

" _Then--_ " he interrupted. "I need you to get me on the calendar for a meeting at the Ministry of Magic for tomorrow afternoon."

" _What?!_ Draco, have you gone mad?!" she asked, nonplussed and completely losing all pretense of professionalism. "I'm not a miracle worker, you know?!"

"Well can you be one, just this once?" He smiled, imploringly. Alexandra had been a godsend to he and Blaise in her 4 years as their secretary. "Come on, Alex. I've seen you work with less in bigger time crunches!"

She smirked wryly.

"Alright, give me 15 minutes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! It's the last chapter for part 1! So sorry to keep you guys waiting -- I know I usually post in the afternoon but life said nuh-un. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and sticking with me through this storyline! I've got much in store for Harry and Draco in part two so be sure to subscribe to the series for updates!
> 
> Comments and feedback are welcome and appreciated :-)

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a prequel for "Chaos Theory: Can Butterflies Have Blonde Hair?" which is Part 2 of this series. I had started writing Part 2 first with every intention of it being the only storyline but, as I wrote, I realized that Harry and Draco's backstory deserved more than a paragraph or two's worth of summary muted within a larger context and thus, "Draco Hearts Spice Girls and Harry Potter" and the "I Now Pronounce You: Blonded for Life" (Previously known as: "The Best Partner He (Technically) Never Had Series" -- yep, I changed the name on the sly) was born.
> 
> I hope you're enjoying Part 1! I can't put a timeline on Part 2 because I do try to put a lot of love and care into these and, since I can't follow my own outlines to save my life, I do like to finish a work completely before I start posting. BUT, I'm working on it and promise not to leave you hangin'. :-)
> 
> **UPDATE AS OF JUNE 29TH**  
> I just finished chapter 13 out of what I expect to be 18 so give me a few more weeks and I got you 😉 
> 
> For updates on when Part 2 is actually posted, be sure to subscribe to the series!


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